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The  Tiger 
in  the  House 


THE  FIRST  EDITION  OF  THIS  BOOK 


PRINTED  ON  ARTCRAFT  INDIA  TINT 
LAID  PAPER  IS  LIMITED  TO  TWO 
THOUSAND  COPIES  OFjW^I|:H^THIS 
IS  NUMBER  


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1 


BOOKS  BY  CARL  VAN  VECHTEN 

INTERPRETERS 

IN  THE  GARRET 

THE  MUSIC  OF  SPAIN 

THE  MERRY  GO-ROUND 

THE  TIGER  IN  THE  HOUSE 

MUSIC  AND  BAD  MANNERS 

MUSIC  AFTER  THE  GREAT  WAR 


- Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/tigerinhouse01vanv 


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The 

T iger  in  theHouse 

Carl  Van  V e c h t e n 


“Dieu  a fait  le  chat  pour  dormer  a 
I’homme  le  plaisir  de  caresser  le  tigre.” 

MERY 


New  York  / Alfred  ^ A ^ Knopf 

MCMXX 


COPYEIGHT,  1920,  BY 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  Inc. 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OP  AMERICA 


FOR  EDNA  KENTON 
. . . AND  FEATHERS 


“ Ho<w  lucky  to  be  a cat 
Free  to  accept  or  — refuse 
IF  hat  is  offered!  ” 


CONTENTS 


Chapter  I. 

By  way  of  correcting  a popular  prejudice 

1 

Chapter  II. 

Treating  of  traits 

22 

Chapter  III. 

Ailurophobes  and  other  cat-haters 

6o 

Chapter  IV. 

The  cat  and  the  occult 

8i 

Chapter  V. 

The  cat  in  folklore 

I3I 

Chapter  VI. 

The  cat  and  the  law 

159 

Chapter  VII. 

The  cat  in  the  theatre 

170 

Chapter  VIII. 

The  cat  in  music 

187 

Chapter  IX. 

The  cat  in  art 

2II 

Chapter  X. 

The  cat  in  fiction 

231 

Chapter  XI. 

The  cat  and  the  poet 

247 

Chapter  XII. 

Literary  men  who  have  loved  cats 

277 

Chapter  XIII. 

Apotheosis 

302 

Bibliography 

309 

Index 

359 

ILLUSTRATIONS 


Carl  Van  Vechten  and  his  tortoise-shell  and  white  smoke  tabby  Per- 
sian queen,  Feathers  Frontispiece 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

FACINU  PAGE 

The  cat  sometimes  makes  strange  friends  14 

From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Les  metamorphoses  du  jour 

This  brown  tabby  short-haired  cat  is  named  Mary  Garden  24 

From  a copyright  photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

The  cat  and  the  frog  32 

From  a drawing  by  Steinlen  in  Des  chats 

Mrs.  Channing  Pollock’s  Osiris  resents  an  invasion  36 

From  a photograph  by  Paul  Thompson 

Champion  King  Winter  42 

From  a copyright  photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

“ Gather  kittens  while  you  may  ” 58 

From  a copyright  photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

The  black  cat  78 

From  a drawing  by  Aubrey  Beardsley  to  illustrate  Poe’s  story,  published 
in  a large  paper  edition  of  Tales  of  Mystery  and  IVonder,  by  Stone 
and  Kimball;  Chicago;  1895 

An  Egyptian  bronze  head  of  a cat  86 

Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art 

Japanese  pillar-prints  by  Koriusai  92 

From  the  collection  ~of  Arthur  Davison  Ficke 

A Japanese  fantasy  96 

From  Champfleury’s  La  chats 

Minette  washes  112 

From  a drawing  by  Gottfried  Mind 

“ A life  of  luxury  ” 124 

From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publique  des  animaux 

The  cat  is  an  oriental  132 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

“ II  ne  faut  pas  faire  passer  tons  les  chats  pour  sorciers  ” 142 


From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publique  des  animaux 


Illustrations 

FACING  PAGE 

Prince  Dorus  and  the  enchanted  cat  148 

From  Prince  Dorus,  by  Charles  Lamb;  London;  i8n 

Japanese  women  and  cat  152 

From  a Japanese  print  by  Mamaro  in  the  collection  of  Arthur  Davison 
Ficke 

The  cat  and  the  ball  of  thread  174 

From  a dravuing  by  Steinlen  in  Des  chats 

La  mort  de  Cochon:  tragedie  184 

From  an  engraving  in  Moncrif’s  Les  chats 

I/C  gar^on  au  chat  204 

From  the  painting  by  Pierre  Auguste  Renoir 

Boris  Anisfeld’s  portrait  of  his  daughter,  Morelia  Borisovna,  and 

her  cat  218 

Banjo  220 

From  the  painting  by  Llenriette  Ronner 

The  entrance  of  the  respectable  Puff  224 

From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publique  des  animaux 

Cover  design  for  Steinlen’s  Des  Chats  226 

The  princess  and  the  cat  230 

From  the  Japanese  print  by  Kiyonobu  I,  in  the  collection  of  Arthur 
Davison  Ficke 

Beauty  and  Brisquet  238 

From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publique  des  animaux 

“ A little  lion,  small  and  dainty  sweet  ” 258 

From  a copyright  photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

“ Jamais  chatte  ne  fut  si  belle ; 264 

Jamais  chatte  ne  me  plut  tant  ” 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

The  cat  and  the  alchemystical  cauldron  268 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 

The  tomb  of  Madame  de  Lesdiguieres’s  cat  274 

From  an  engraving  in  Moncrif’s  Les  chats 

Rendez-vous  de  chats  290 

From  a poster  by  Edouard  Manet 

Feathers  alert  304 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 


The  Tiger 
in  the  House 


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Chapter  One:  By  Way  of  Correcting  a 
Popular  Prejudice 

Whenever  the  subject  comes  up,  and  it  may  be  said,  speaking 
with  moderation,  that  it  comes  up  forty  times  a day,  some  one 
invariably  declares,  “ No,  I don’t  like  cats,  I like  dogs.”  The 
cognate  dichotomous  remark,  which  is  equally  popular,  preva- 
lent, and  banal,  is  “ No,  I don’t  like  Dickens,  I like  Thack- 
eray.” As  James  Branch  Cabell  has  conveniently  pointed  out 
for  all  time,  ‘‘  to  the  philosophical  mind  it  would  seem  equally 
sensible  to  decline  to  participate  in  a game  of  billiards  on  the 
ground  that  one  was  fond  of  herring.”  Nevertheless  both 
controversies  continue  to  rage  and  careless  thinkers  continue 
to  force  Dickens  and  the  cat  into  categories.  The  dog-lovers, 
in  the  opposition  sense  (for  it  is  really  possible  to  care  for  both 
dogs  and  cats,  just  as  it  is  possible  to  read  ” Pendennis  ” and 
‘‘  Bleak  House  ” with  equal  delight),  say  of  the  soft  puss  that 
he  is  sly  and  deceitful,  thieving  and  ungrateful,  fickle  and 
cruel,  a friend  to  home  and  not  to  man.  From  this  inconsid- 
erate, and  unconsidered,  opinion  the  derogatory  and  cata- 
chrestic  adjective  ” catty  ” has  been  derived,  an  adjective 
which  when  used  in  its  ordinarily  accepted  sense  I find  particu- 
larly abhorrent,  for  who  should  be  described  as  catty  unless  it 
be  some  gracious  and  graceful  female,  dignified  and  reserved, 
redolent  of  beauty  and  charm  and  the  mystery  of  love?  The 
cat-lovers  on  their  side,  so  ardent,  indeed,  that  in  France  they 
have  earned  the  sobriquet  of  felinophiles  enrages,  have  not 
been  guiltless.  Affectionate,  intelligent,  faithful,  tried  and 
true  are  some  of  the  adjectives  they  lavish  indiscriminately  on 
their  darling  pets.  It  would  seem,  indeed,  after  reading 


I 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

some  of  the  books,  that  cats  spend  their  nine  lives  caring  for 
the  sick,  saving  children  from  burning  buildings,  and  helping 
Mrs.  Jellyby  make  small-clothes  for  the  heathen  in  Africa. 

The  cat  himself  might  have  settled  the  question  long  ago, 
had  settling  such  matters  been  a part  of  the  cat’s  purpose  in 
life.  You  cannot  reasonably  expect  a near  relative  of  the 
king  of  beasts  (whom  he  much  more  closely  resembles,  by  the 
way,  than  a Japanese  spaniel  resembles  a Newfoundland  dog), 
an  animal  who  has  been  a god,  a companion  of  sorceresses  at 
the  Witches’  Sabbath,  a beast  who  is  royal  in  Siam,  who  in 
Japan  is  called  “ the  tiger  who  eats  from  the  hand,”  the 
adored  of  Mohammed,  Laura’s  rival  with  Petrarch,  the  friend 
of  Richelieu’s  idle  moments,  the  favourite  of  poet  and  pre- 
late, to  regard  the  stupidity  of  humankind  in  regard  to  him 
with  anything  less  than  disdain.  The  cat,  indeed,  makes  no 
advances.  He  cares  for  the  hearth  and  often  he  condescends 
to  display  affection  to  human  friends,  just  as  he  has  been 
known  to  entertain  a vast  liking  for  horses,  parrots,  and 
tortoises,  but  even  in  the  most  heated  of  such  relationships 
he  preserves  a proper  independence.  He  stays  where  he 
likes  to  stay;  he  goes  where  he  wants  to  go.  He  gives  his 
affection  where  it  pleases  him  to  give  it  (when,  also,  it  might 
be  added)  and  he  withholds  it  from  those  whom  he  deems 
unworthy  of  it.  In  other  words  with  a cat  you  stand  on  much 
the  same  footing  that  you  stand  with  a fine  and  dignified 
friend;  if  you  forfeit  his  respect  and  confidence  the  relation- 
ship suffers.  The  cat,  it  is  well  to  remember,  remains  the 
friend  of  man  because  it  pleases  him  to  do  so  and  not  because 
he  must.  Resourceful,  brave,  intelligent  (the  brain  of  a 
kitten  is  comparatively  larger  than  that  of  a child),  the  cat 
is  in  no  sense  a dependent  and  can  revert  to  the  wild  state 
with  less  readjustment  of  values  than  any  other  domestic 
animal.  Therefore  he  is  easily  enabled  to  determine  his  own 
end  and  purpose  and  to  lead  his  own  life.  “ I love  in  the 
cat,”  said  Chateaubriand  to  M.  de  Marcellus,  “ that  inde- 


2 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

pendent  and  almost  ungrateful  temper  which  prevents  him 
from  attaching  himself  to  anyone;  the  indifference  with  which 
he  passes  from  the  salon  to  the  housetop.  When  you  caress 
him,  he  stretches  himself  out  and  arches  his  back,  indeed, 
but  that  is  caused  by  physical  pleasure,  not,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  dog,  by  a silly  satisfaction  in  loving  and  being  faithful  to 
a master  who  returns  thanks  in  kicks.  The  cat  lives  alone, 
has  no  need  of  society,  does  not  obey  except  when  he  likes, 
pretends  to  sleep  that  he  may  see  the  more  clearly,  and 
scratches  everything  he  can  scratch.  Buffon  has  belied  the 
cat;  I am  labouring  at  his  rehabilitation  and  I hope  to  make 
of  him  a tolerably  good  sort  of  animal,  as  times  go.”  ^ 

Without  some  such  guide  to  the  nature  of  the  most  interest- 
ing of  animals  it  is  impossible  to  approach  the  subject  from 
any  angle  whatever.  But  with  these  few  facts  in  mind  I must 
at  once  beg  to  insist  upon  a paradox.  Stated  simply  the  case 
is  this:  each  individual  cat  differs  in  as  many  ways  as  possible 
from  each  other  individual  cat.  Any  unprejudiced  observer, 
interested  enough  in  cats  to  inspire  their  devotion,  will  have 
found  this  out  for  himself  if  he  has  ever  become  acquainted 
with  several  cats  at  one  time.  Doubtless  there  are  seraph 
cats  and  demon  cats  as  well  but  the  characters  of  most  pussies 
lie  somewhere  between  these  intense  blacks  and  whites.  Cats 
differ  so  much,  indeed,  that  some  of  them  even  lack  the  most 
generally  distributed  feline  characteristics.  It  can  be  said 
of  cats  in  general,  however,  that  they  are  all  independent, 
most  of  them  amorous  (their  love  habits,  inspired  by  the 
hardiest  desires,  are  often  supremely  cruel-),  and  mystic. 
On  this  last  point  there  is  little  reason  for  doubt.  Cats  have 
gnosis  to  a degree  that  is  granted  to  few  bishops  as  I shall 
attempt  to  show  in  a later  chapter.  As  for  their  independence 

1 “ Chateaubriand  et  son  temps,”  by  the  Comte  de  Marcellus;  1859. 

2 The  theory  of  the  American  Shakers  that  the  functions  of  sex  “ belong  to  a 
state  of  nature  and  are  inconsistent  -with  a state  of  grace  ” is  not  held  by  the 
cat. 


3 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

it  is  simply  the  aristocratic  quality  of  being  natural.  Cats 
do  not  force  their  attentions  upon  others  and  they  do  not  care 
to  have  attentions  forced  upon  them.  But  when  a cat  is 
hungry  or  wishes  to  go  out  of  doors  or  has  amorous  desires 
he  plainly  declares  his  feelings.  “ Why  not?  ” asks  Colette’s 
Kiki-la-Doucette,  “Why  not?  People  do.”®  These  are 
reminiscences,  inheritances,  of  the  wild  life  which  the  cat  has 
never  lost  and  never  will  lose.  For  in  keeping  with  his  royal 
brother,  the  lion,  he  also  has  a strong  racial  instinct  which 
survives  to  be  awakened  when  it  is  called.  He  has  a longer 
memory  than  Monna  Lisa. 

Yet  in  the  degree  in  which  they  react  to  these  instincts  indi- 
vidual cats  differ,  and  these  differences  are  accentuated  by 
treatment  and  by  breeding,  for  cats  inherit  many  traits,  and 
although  it  almost  seems  unscientific  to  say  so,  there  is  strong 
evidence  to  the  effect  that  they  inherit  acquired  characteristics. 
You  will  find  it  stated  in  some  of  the  books  that  a cat  who  has 
been  deprived  of  her  tail  will  occasionally  produce  tailless 
kittens. 

Many  observers  have  recorded  the  eccentricities  and  idio- 
syncrasies of  cats.  Wynter  ^ speaks  of  a cat  of  his  who 
selected  blotting  paper  on  which  to  sit  or  lie.  Meredith 
Janvier’s  Major  Pussman  contracted  tuberculosis  from  sleep- 
ing on  a hot  radiator.  Clara  Rossiter  ® describes  a puss 
whose  favourite  occupation  was  to  pull  all  the  pins  out  of  a 
cushion  and  lay  them  out  on  the  table,  “ and  when  the  last  was 
taken  out,  looking  up  into  our  faces  with  the  most  comical 
expression  and  making  us  understand  she  wanted  them  re- 
placed. However  many  times  we  stuck  the  pins  in  she  would 
pull  them  out.”  This  cat  also  took  pleasure  in  devouring 
flowers,  which  she  removed  from  the  vases.  The  Reverend 
J.  G.  Wood  tells  us  of  a tom  cat  who  was  such  an  aristocrat 

® “ Sept  Dialogues  de  Betes.” 

* " Fruit  Between  the  Leaves.” 

® “ Anecdotes  of  Pets”:  “North  British  Advertiser”  (Edinburgh);  1874. 

4 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

that  “ nothing  would  induce  him  — not  even  milk  when  he 
was  hungry  — to  put  his  head  into  the  kitchen,  or  to  enter  the 
house  by  the  servants’  door.”  Wynter  had  a cat  who  rose 
suddenly  one  day  and  sprang  up  the  chimney,  a fire  burning  in 
the  grate  all  the  while.  A couple  of  hundred  years  earlier 
the  writer  would  have  been  burned  for  relating  this  incident. 
This  cat  would  eat  pickles  and  liked  brandy  and  water. 
Lindsay  ® mentions  a cat  with  a fondness  for  porter  and 
Jerome  K.  Jerome  writes  of  another  who  drank  from  a leaky 
beer-tap  until  she  was  intoxicated.  In  a letter  to  Samuel  But- 
ler, dated  December  24,  1879,  Miss  Savage  remarks,  “ My 
cat  has  taken  to  mulled  port  and  rum  punch.  Poor  old  dear! 
he  is  all  the  better  for  it.  Dr.  W.  B.  Richardson  says  that 
the  lower  animals  always  refuse  alcoholic  drinks,  and  gives 
that  as  a reason  why  humans  should  do  so  too.” 

It  is  the  popular  belief  that  cats  have  an  Inherent  dislike 
for  water  and  in  general  they  are  catabaptists,  but  my  Ariel 
had  no  aversion  to  water;  indeed,  this  orange  Persian  puss 
was  accustomed  to  leap  voluntarily  into  my  warm  morning 
tub  and  she  particularly  liked  to  sit  in  the  wash-hand-bowl 
under  the  open  faucet.  Artault  de  Vevey®  also  had  a cat. 
Isoline,  who  took  baths,  jumping  into  the  full  tub.  “ Cats 
are  popularly  supposed  to  dislike  wet,”  writes  Olive  Thorne 
Miller,  “ but  I have  seen  two  of  them  in  a steady  rain  conduct 
an  interview  with  all  the  gravity  and  deliberation  for  which 
these  affairs  are  celebrated.”  There  are  innumerable  re- 
corded examples  of  cats  swimming  rivers  to  return  to  their 
old  homes  and  St.  George  Mivart  tells  us  of  a cat  who  plunged 
into  a swiftly  running  stream  and  rescued  her  three  drowning 
kittens,  bearing  them  one  by  one  to  the  shore.  A writer  in 
“ Chambers’s  Journal  ” ® recalls  a dejected  black  cat  who  com- 

® “ Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals.” 

“ Novel  Notes,”  P.  151. 

® Artault  de  Vevey;  “ Des  Actes  Raisonnes  chez  le  Chat”;  “Bulletin  de 
I’Institut  General  Psychologique,”  Annee  III,  No.  i;  P.  13-14;  Paris;  1903. 

® “ Chambers’s  Journal”;  October  9,  1880,  P.  646. 

5 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

mitted  suicide  by  drowning!  Fishing  cats  seem  to  be  a com- 
monplace. Lane  quotes  the  “ Plymouth  Journal  ” in  re- 
gard to  a cat  who  was  accustomed  to  dive  for  fish  and  Ross  “ 
writes  of  a Mr.  Moody,  near  Newcastle-upon-Tyne  who  had 
a cat  who  caught  minnows,  eels,  and  pilchards  in  this  manner. 
There  is  likewise  the  evidence  of  a celebrated  Egyptian  fresco 
in  the  British  Museum  which  depicts  a cat  acting  as  a re- 
triever, shows  us  a gentle  puss  leaping  into  the  Nile  from  a 
boat  in  order  to  fetch  and  carry  the  slaughtered  duck  back  into 
the  boat,  an  incident  that  G.  A.  Henty  has  woven  into  his  tale 
for  boys,  “ The  Cat  of  Bubastes.”  Certain  cats  of  today 
find  it  natural  to  retrieve.  My  Ariel  would  run  after  a cat- 
nip mouse  and  bring  it  to  me,  as  often  as  I would  throw  it. 

C.  H.  Lane:  “Rabbits,  Cats  and  Cavies.”  P.  239.  The  cat  was  named 
Puddles.  “ He  used  to  go  out  a-fishin’  with  me  every  night,”  relates  the  fisher- 
man. “ On  cold  nights  he  would  sit  on  my  lap  while  I was  a-fishin’,  and  poke 

his  head  out  every  now  and  then,  or  else  I would  wrap  him  up  in  a sail  and 
make  him  lay  quiet.  He’d  lay  down  on  me  while  I was  asleep,  and  if  anybody 
came,  he’d  swear  a good  un,  and  have  the  face  off  on  ’em  if  they  went  to  touch 
me,  and  he’d  never  touch  a fish,  not  even  a little  teeny  pout,  if  you  didn’t  give 
it  to  ’im.  I was  obliged  to  take  him  out  a-fishin’  or  else  he’d  stand  an’  yowl 
and  marr  till  I went  back  and  ketched  him  by  the  poll  and  shied  him  into  the 

boat,  and  then  he  was  quite  happy.  When  it  was  fine  he  used  to  stick  up  at 

the  bow  of  the  boat  and  sit  a-watchin’  the  dogs  (dog-fish).  The  dogs  used  to 
come  along  by  the  thousands  at  a time,  and  when  they  was  thick  all  about,  he 
would  dive  in  and  fetch  ’em  out,  jammed  in  his  mouth  as  fast  as  may  be,  just 
as  if  they  was  a parcel  of  rats,  and  he  didn’t  tremble  with  the  cold  half  as 
much  as  a Newfoundland  dog  who  was  used  to  it.  He  looked  terrible  wild 
about  the  head  when  he  came  out  of  the  water  with  a dog-fish.  I larnt  him 
the  water  myself.  One  day,  when  he  was  a kitten,  I took  him  down  to  the  sea 
to  wash  and  brush  the  fleas  out  of  him  and  in  a week  he  could  swim  after  a 
feather  or  a cork.” 

lie.  H.  Ross:  “The  Book  of  Cats.” 

12  To  the  black  cat,  who  has  it  in  mind  to  move,  the  chinchilla  cat  gives  the 
following  advice  in  Jerome  K.  Jerome’s  “Novel  Notes,”  P.  147:  “Try  and 
get  yourself  slightly  wet.  Why  people  should  prefer  a wet  cat  to  a dry  one  I 
have  never  been  able  to  understand;  but  that  a wet  cat  is  practically  sure  of 
being  taken  in  and  gushed  over,  while  a dry  cat  is  liable  to  have  the  garden 
hose  turned  upon  it,  is  an  undoubted  fact.  Also,  if  you  can  possibly  manage 
it,  and  it  is  offered  you,  eat  a bit  of  dry  bread.  The  human  race  is  always 
stirred  to  its  deepest  depths  by  the  sight  of  a cat  eating  a bit  of  dry  bread.” 

6 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

“ When  visiting  a friend  in  Patagonia,”  W.  H.  Hudson  records 
in  “ The  Book  of  a Naturalist,”  “ I was  greatly  astonished  one 
day  on  going  out  with  a gun  to  shoot  something  followed  by 
the  dogs  to  find  a black  cat  in  their  company,  and  to  see  her 
when  I fired  my  first  shot  actually  dashing  off  before  the  dogs 
to  retrieve  the  bird!  ” 

One  person  observes  that  cats  are  always  gentle  and  polite, 
that  they  eat  their  food  daintily  and  never  greedily,  but  I have 
watched  otherwise  good-mannered  felines  who  could  gobble 
and  growl  over  their  food  with  as  much  greediness  and  ill- 
manneredness as  any  dog.  In  the  mere  matter  of  the  selec- 
tion of  food  cats  vary  as  much  as  people.  There  are  im- 
perious, haughty,  aristocratic  cats  who  insist  on  being  fed 
esoteric  dishes  in  a certain  fixed  spot,  by  certain  people. 
Other  cats  resemble  Lafcadlo  Hearn’s  little  red  kitten  who 
“ ate  beefsteak  and  cockroaches,  caterpillars  and  fish,  chicken 
and  butterflies,  mosquito  hawks  and  roast  mutton,  hash  and 
tumblebugs,  beetles  and  pigs’  feet,  crabs  and  spiders,  moths 
and  poached  eggs,  oysters  and  earthworms,  ham  and  mice, 
rats  and  rice  pudding, — until  its  belly  became  a realization 
of  Noah’s  Ark.” 

Cats  are  exceedingly  nervous  and  they  are  not  as  a rule  to 
be  trusted  in  railroad  trains,  for  the  slightest  sound  or  move- 
ment is  likely  to  awaken  terror  and  fast  moving  objects 
usually  inspire  them  with  the  keenest  sense  of  fright.  But 
Avery  Hopwood’s  orange  tabby  Persian,  Abelard, takes 

“The  Little  Red  Kitten,”  in  “ Fantastics,”  P.  33. 

1*  “ Fulbert  . . . now  deeply  troubled  and  revengeful,  determined  to  inflict 
that  punishment  and  indignity  on  Abelard,  which,  in  its  accomplishment,  shocked 
even  that  ruder  civilization  to  horror  and  reprisal.”  From  “The  Story  of 
Abelard  and  Heloi'se.” 

Raoul  Gineste  has  treated  the  subject  in  a poem  which  begins; 

On  a fait  couper  matou, 

Pour  cause  de  proprete, 

Et  par  esprit  de  bonte; 

L’amour  I’aurait  rendu  fou. 


7 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

motor  rides  with  him,  sitting  sagely  on  the  front  seat  without 
a leash.  When  the  car  stops  he  leaps  out  and  walks  about, 
ready  to  get  back  again  when  a start  is  agreed  upon.  Theo- 
dore Hammeker,  a flyer  on  the  French  front  and  in  Palestine 
during  the  late  war,  took  his  black  cat,  Brutus,  with  him  on 
his  flights.  The  R-34,  the  first  dirigible  to  cross  the  Atlantic 
from  England  to  America,  carried  the  tabby  cat.  Jazz,  as  the 
only  animal  passenger.  And  I am  acquainted  with  a eupeptic 

Son  maitre,  barde  de  lard, 

Bourgeois  stupide  et  cruel, 

A trouve  spirituel 
De  I’appeler  Abelard. 

In  “ Les  Chats”  (P.  74)  Moncrif  quotes  Isaac  de  Benserade’s  poem,  inspired 
by  the  castration  of  a cat  belonging  to  Madame  Deshoulieres: 

Je  ne  dis  mot  et  je  fais  bonne  mine 
Et  mauvais  jeu  depuis  le  triste  jour 
Qu’on  me  rendit  inhabile  d I’amour 
Des  Chats  galans,  moi  la  fleur  la  plus  fine. 

Ainsi  se  plaint  Moricaut  et  rumine 
Contre  la  main  qui  lui  fit  un  tel  tour; 

II  est  glaciere,  au  lieu  qu’il  etoit  four; 

II  s’occupoit,  maintenant  il  badine, 

C’etoit  un  brave,  et  ce  n’ est  plus  qu’un  sot, 

Dans  la  gouttiere  il  tourne  autour  du  pot, 

Et  de  bon  coeur  son  Serrail  en  enrage ; 

Pour  les  plaisirs  il  avoit  un  talent, 

Que  I’on  lui  change  au  plus  beau  de  son  age: 

Le  triste  etat  qu’un  etat  indolent! 

Catulle  Mendes  writes:  "Rue  Mansard,  j’eus  un  chat,  d qui  Von  donna  le 
nom  d’un  personnage  de  la  IValkyrie.  Mime  etait  beau  comme  un  amour. 
C’etait  un  matou  d’un  noir  superbe;  mais  il  repandait  une  odeur  formidable  et  ne 
se  faisait  pas  faute  de  lacerer  mes  rideaux.  On  fut  bien  oblige  de  le  confier  d 
un  homme  de  Part,  qui  nous  le  ramena  dans  un  etat  absolu  de  neutrality.  A 
dater  de  ce  jour.  Mime  s’enfonqa  dans  une  tristesse  phis  noire  que  lui-meme. 
Nous  habitions  au  cinquieme  Stage.  Mime  avait  coutume,  d certains  moments 
de  la  journee,  de  faire  un  petit  tour  sur  la  corniche  de  zinc  qui  regnait  au  long 
de  la  facade  interieure,  sous  nos  fenetres.  Un  matin,  je  le  vis  — on  je  crus  le 
voir  — s’elancer  volontairement  de  cette  corniche  dans  la  rue.  En  tombant,  il 
rencontra  un  reverbere  contre  lequel  il  se  cassa  les  reins.  Je  vous  affirme  que 
je  garde  I’impression  que  Mime  s’est  suicide.’’ 

8 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

altered  tom  silver  Persian  who  even  goes  to  the  movies  on  the 
shoulder  of  his  mistress ! 

Cats  are  popularly  supposed  again  to  prefer  places  to  people 
and  there  are  literally  thousands  of  recorded  examples  of  cats 
who  have  surmounted  every  kind  of  physical  obstacle  in  order 
to  return  to  old  homes  from  which  they  had  been  removed. 
It  would  be  as  easy  to  give  as  long  a list  of  cats  who  move  regu- 
larly with  their  families  every  year  or  so.  A further  list 
could  be  compiled  of  cats  who  move  of  their  own  accord,  often 
from  homes  in  which  they  are  treated  with  every  mark  of 
respect  and  in  which  they  are  surrounded  with  every  comfort 
and  luxury.  To  those  who  feel  that  the  recipient  of  atten- 
tions should  be  grateful  no  matter  in  what  form  they  come, 
this  strange  conduct  of  cats  will  seem  inexplicable,  but  I am 
sure  that  some  of  my  readers  will  understand  that  it  is  possible 
to  desire  something  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  luxury  or 
comfort.  Occasionally,  indeed,  you  will  even  find  people  who 
are  willing  to  leave  rich  homes  for  the  pleasures  of  adventure. 

The  Cafs  winged  yearnings  journey. 

Unrestrained,  o’er  Time  and  Space, 

muses  Hiddigeigei,  the  Tom  Cat,  and  cats  with  longings  in 
their  souls  invariably  satisfy  these  longings,  so  far  as  they  are 
able.  Carefully  bred,  tenderly  nurtured  Persian  pussies  have 
been  known  to  leave  the  silks  and  satins  of  the  drawing-room 
for  the  free  life  of  the  rooftop  and  companionship  with  ex- 
tremely ill-bred,  low-spoken,  short-haired  felines.  Spouse- 
breach  has  been  known  to  result.  Other  cats  have  left 
luxurious  homes  to  take  up  a broader  existence  in  a green 
grocer’s  shop,  where  the  hunting  is  better  and  there  is  less 
petting.  The  reverse  often  happens.  A cat  leaves  a life  of 
poverty  to  enter  into  a life  of  luxury.  On  the  whole,  how- 
ever, I would  say  that  cats  pattern  their  lives  more  on  that  of 
May  Yohe  than  on  that  of  Cinderella.  . . . To  return  to  our 
text  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  there  are  perverse  cats  just  as 

9 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

there  are  perverse  people,  who  insist  on  residing  in  a certain 
spot.  But  these  cats  have  a good  instinctive  reason  for  this 
obstinacy  as  I shall  show  later. 

Some  cats  make  fond  and  zealous  mothers,  taking  every 
care  of  their  young,  hiding  them  from  danger,  washing  and 
feeding  them,  and  teaching  them  to  play.  Alice’s  Dinah, 
whose  method  of  washing  her  babies  was  to  hold  the  poor 
things  down  by  their  ears  with  one  paw,  and  with  the  other 
paw  rub  their  faces  all  over,  was  an  excellent  mother.  Some 
cats  have  such  a strong  instinct  for  motherhood  that  if  their 
offspring  is  taken  away  from  them  they  suckle  babies,^®  lever- 
ets,and  even  rats.  Other  cats  have  been  known  to  neglect 
or  even  to  kill  their  young.  One  stolid  young  queen,  prob- 
ably having  read  de  Maupassant’s  “ Inutile  Beaute,”  drowned 
her  babies  in  a water  butt;  another,  refusing  to  suckle  her  kit- 
tens or,  indeed,  to  go  near  them  at  all,  was  shut  up  with  them 
in  a shed,  whereupon  she  promptly  put  out  their  little  lives 
with  blows  from  her  strong  hind  feet.  When  she  was  re- 
leased she  walked  out  purring,  evidently  in  a high  state  of  re- 
lief and  contentment. 

Cleanliness  in  the  cat  world  is  usually  a virtue  put  above 
godliness.  Puss  spends  more  time  washing  than  debutantes 
do  changing  their  clothes  and  her  attention  to  Gulliverian 
hydraulics  and  other  demands  of  nature  is  fastidious  to  a de- 
gree. In  the  Cat  State,  Clarence  Day,  jr.,  quaintly  observes, 
the  plumber,  the  manicurist,  and  the  soap-maker  would  occupy 
the  highest  social  positions;  preachers  and  lawyers,  the  lowest. 
Nevertheless  Siamese  and  Russian  short-haired  blue  cats  have 
an  odour,  and  I have  seen  cats  of  whatever  colour,  of  whatever 
breed,  dirtier  than  any  other  animal  could  possibly  be.  A 
kitten  once  lived  with  me,  a kitten  in  every  respect  super-intelli- 
gent, who  refused  to  systematize  his  toilet  operations.  He 

IB  « Through  the  Looking  Glass”:  Chapter  I. 

VV.  Lauder  Lindsay:  “Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals.” 

Gilbert  White:  “The  Natural  History  of  Selborne.” 


lO 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

was  a most  amusing,  adorably  Impudent,  tailless  kitten  who 
followed  me  on  the  street  one  night  in  Paris.  He  walked 
closely  behind  me  for  a quarter  of  a mile  and  when  I put  him 
— he  was  very  tiny  — into  my  pocket  he  assented  to  the  ar- 
rangement by  purring  loudly.  But  when  together  we  ascended 
the  steps  of  an  omnibus,  the  conductor  waved  his  hand  grandly 
with  the  admonition,  “Pas  de  hetesf’’  So,  with  puss  In  my 
pocket,  I walked  to  my  hotel.  This  cat  had  a delectable  habit 
of  springing  on  my  shoulder  in  the  dark  when  I returned  home 
at  night.  Rubbing  himself  against  my  cheek  he  purred  like 
the  kettle-drums  In  Berlioz’s  Requiem.  He  was  not  impressed 
by  the  art  of  Franz  von  Stuck  and  invariably,  until  I no  longer 
fastened  it  up,  he  succeeded  In  wresting  an  engraving  of  Salome 
from  the  wall,  although  it  was  pinned  very  high  and  no  article 
of  furniture  underneath  offered  assistance  in  the  operation. 
This  puss  also  had  a mania  for  breaking  dishes,  and  there  was 
no  leaving  tea-things  around  In  his  presence.  Like  all  cats  he 
could  alight  on  a full  table  of  such  knick-knacks  without  up- 
setting anything,  but  once  landed  he  delighted  In  disturbing 
the  equilibrium  of  the  porcelain  with  his  nimble  and  roguish 
paw.  These  qualities  did  not  alienate  my  affections,  quite  the 
contrary.  We  quarreled  Irrevocably  over  another  matter 
about  which  puss  (as  cats  always  are)  was  Inexorable  and  para- 
mount. He  refused  to  learn  tbe  uses  of  a box  of  sandd®  nor 

Claudine’s  Fanchette  was  irreproachable  in  this  respect.  Colette  Willy  ob- 
served her  one  day  and  set  down  her  observations  with  such  truth  and  good 
humour  that  I cannot  resist  .the  temptation  to  quote  the  passage  from  “ Claudine 
a Paris”  (P.  19):  "Fanchette,  heureuse  fille,  a pris  gaiment  I’internat.  Elle 
a,  sans  protestation,  accepte,  pour  y deposer  ses  petites  horreurs,  un  plat  de 
sciure  dissimule  dans  ma  ruelle,  et  je  m’amuse,  penchee,  a suwre  sur  sa 
physionomie  de  chatte  les  phases  d’une  operation  importante.  Fanchette  se  lave 
les  pattes  de  derriere,  soigneuse,  entre  les  doigts.  Figure  sage  et  qui  ne  dit 
rien.  Arret  brusque  dans  le  vjashing:  figure  serieuse  et  vague  souci.  Change- 
ment  soudain  de  pose;  elle  s’assied  sur  son  seant.  Yeux  froids  et  quasi  sevbres. 
Elle  se  live,  fait  trois  pas  et  se  rassied.  Puis,  decision  irrevocable,  on  saute  du 
lit,  on  court  a son  plat,  on  gratte  . . . et  rien  du  tout.  L’air  indifferent  re- 
par  ait.  Mais  pas  longtemps.  Les  sourcils  angoisses  se  rapprochent;  elle  re- 
gratte  fievreusement  la  sciure,  pietine,  cherche  la  bonne  place  et  pendant  trois 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

would  a sheet  of  paper  or  sawdust  tempt  him.  Not  even  “ Le 
Temps”  or  “ Le  Journal”  with  the  revues  of  Catulle 
Mendes.  . , . 

There  is  no  one  thing  that  cats  are  supposed  to  care  more 
for  than  heat,  and  it  is  true  that  a cat  will  seek  a hearth,  a cozy 
wood  fire,  or  the  companionship  of  a kitchen  stove,  but  it  is 
perfectly  possible  for  a cat  to  exist  in  the  cold.  When  it  was 
discovered  that  the  extremely  frigid  temperature  of  the  great 
cold-storage  plants  was  not  sufficiently  bitter  to  exterminate 
the  sturdy  rats  and  mice  some  one  proposed  the  introduction 
of  cats.  The  first  felines  carried  into  these  bleak  quarters 
did  not  thrive.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  perished,  but  a few 
survived  and,  after  a winter  or  two,  grew  an  astonishing  coat 
of  fur,  as  thick  as  that  of  a beaver.  The  kittens  born  in  this 
ice-like  temperature  were  hardy  little  beasts,  and  it  is  said 
that  now  the  cold-storage  cats  would  pant  and  languish  with 
nervous  exhaustion  were  they  exposed  to  a New  York  July  day. 

There  is  a feud  between  the  cat  and  the  dog,  but  this  dis- 
like is  superficial  and  can,  in  most  Instances,  be  easily  set  aside. 
It  is,  to  be  sure,  instinctive.  Kittens  with  their  eyes  scarcely 
open  have  been  known  to  spit  at  a dog.  But  cats  who  live 
with  dogs  usually  do  so  with  dignity  and  ease;  in  many  cases  a 
deep  affection  springs  up  between  the  two.  When  Flecknoe’s 
miserable  old  gentlewoman  in  his  “ Enigmatical  Characters  ” 
(1658)  speaks  of  letting  her  prayer  book  fall  into  the  dripping 
pan  and  the  cat  and  dog  quarreling  over  it  and  at  last  agreeing 
to  pray  on  it  she  becomes  in  a sense  symbolical.  You  may  like- 
wise remember  that  Old  Mother  Hubbard  went  to  the  hat- 
ter’s to  buy  her  dog  a hat,  “ but  when  she  came  back  he  was 
feeding  the  cat.” 

minutes,  I’oeil  fixe  et  sorti,  semble  songer  aprement.  Car  elle  est  volontiers  un 
peu  constipee.  Enfin,  lentement,  on  se  relive  et,  avec  des  pricautions  minutieuses, 
on  recouvre  le  cadavre,  de  I’air  penetre  qui  convient  d cette  funebre  operation. 
Petit  grattement  superfetatoire  autour  du  plat,  et  sans  transition,  cabriole  di- 
hanchee  et  diabolique,  prelude  a une  danse  de  chevre,  le  pas  de  la  delivrance. 
Alors,  je  ris  et  je  crie:  ‘ Melie,  viens  changer,  vite,  le  plat  de  la  chattel"* 


12 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

Mademoiselle  Antoinette  Therese  Deshoulieres  wrote  a re- 
markable heroic  tragedy,  after  the  manner  of  Corneille,  the 
subject  of  which  is  the  passion  of  Madame  Deshoulieres’s 
cat,  Grisette,  for  Cochon,  the  dog  of  the  Due  de  Vivonne, 
brother  to  Madame  de  Montespan.  The  play  is  called  La 
Mart  de  Cochon  and  all  the  ram-cats  of  Madame  Deshouli- 
eres’s household  and  the  neighbourhood  have  gathered  on  a 
convenient  rooftop  to  rejoice  at  the  news  conveyed  by  the  title, 
and  to  express  the  hope  that  one  of  them  may  win  the  paw  of 
the  perverse  Grisette.  That  young  lady,  however,  gives  her- 
self whole-heartedly  to  grief.  In  vain  the  Chorus  of  Cats 
cries : 

Redonnez-vous  d votre  espece, 

Votre  destin  sera  plus  doux. 

Grisette  replies : 

Je  dots  d Cochon  ma  tendresse. 

Dussiez-vous  etre  encor  niille  fois  plus  jaloux, 

Vous  verrez  d quel  point  pour  lui  je  rninteresse. 

The  Chorus  cries : 

Ah  cruelle  chatte,  arretez! 

But  she  does  not  relent  and  disappears  from  the  rooftop  to 
make  way  for  Eros,  the  god  in  the  car,  who  holds  out  the  fol- 
lowing hope: 

Tendres  matous,  laissez-la-faire: 

Votre  infortune  finira; 

J’en  jure  par  mon  arc,  j’en  jure  par  ma  rtiere. 

La  Constance  est  une  chimere 
Dont  Grisette  se  lassera. 

Through  the  convenient  pen  of  Madame  Deshoulieres, 
Grisette  and  Cochon  had  previously  penned  a long  correspon- 
dence. It  is  perhaps  the  first  literary  friendship  between  a dog 
and  a cat  but  by  no  means  the  last.  Indeed  a cat  prefers,  in 

13 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

most  cases,  a dog  for  a companion  rather  than  another  cat. 
A mother  cat  will  suckle  puppies  and  she  has  been  known  to 
suckle  rats.  For  rats  and  cats,  too,  can  become  friends,  as 
Theophile  Gautier  discovered  when  his  dynasties  of  white  rats 
and  white  cats  were  contemporaries.^® 

“ Respect  of  slumber,”  writes  S.  B.  Wister,-®  “ is  a most 
curious  characteristic  of  cats  and  I have  often  wondered  if  it 
is  the  same  instinct  which  is  said  to  prevent  lions  and  tigers 
from  attacking  sleeping  prey.”  This  is  all  very  well,  but 
have  cats  respect  for  slumber?  Some  of  them  have.  My 
Feathers  has  not.  She  wants  her  breakfast  at  a certain  hour 
in  the  morning;  if  the  door  of  my  bedroom  is  closed  she  gives 
little  cries  outside.  If  it  is  open  she  enters,  puts  her  forepaws 
on  the  edge  of  my  bed  close  to  my  face  and  licks  my  cheek.  If 
I brush  her  away,  in  a few  moments  she  is  nibbling  my  toes.  I 
put  an  end  to  this  and  very  shortly  she  is  marching  up  and  down, 
using  me  as  a highroad.  She  is  equally  persistent  if  I am  tak- 
ing a nap.  On  such  occasions  she  often  climbs  high  on  my 
breast  and  sleeps  with  me,  but  when  she  awakes  she  digs  her 
claws  into  my  chest  and  stretches,  quite  as  if  I didn’t  exist. 
This  alternate  protrusion  of  the  forepaws,  with  toes  separated, 
as  if  pushing  against  and  sucking  their  mother’s  teats,  is  a 
favourite  gesture  of  cats  when  they  are  pleased. 

Cats  make  a radical  distinction,  naturally  enough,  between 
their  relations  with  human  beings  and  their  relations  with 
other  cats.  An  anonymous  writer  quoted  by  Moncrif,^^  has 
put  this  beautifully  in  his  description  of  the  lovely  Menine  of 
Madame  de  Lesdiguieres  who  was 

Chatte  pour  tout  le  monde,  et  pour  les  chats,  tigresse. 

Cats  are  extremely  sensitive  and  nervous;  their  pulses  register 

W.  H.  Hudson  relates  the  story  of  a remarkable  friendship  between  a cat 
and  a rat  in  “The  Book  of  a Naturalist.” 

2®  “ Cats  and  their  affections”;  “Temple  Bar”;  Vol.  roy,  P.  84. 

21  “Les  Chats”;  P.  89. 


THE  CAT  SOMETIMES  MAKES  STRANGE  FRIENDS 

From  a drazviug  by  GrandviUe  in  Les  Metamorphoses  du  Jour 


2 


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By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Pre]udice 

i6o  throbs  a minute.  A good-natured  kitten  may  be  worried 
into  becoming  a bad-natured  cat,  or  the  bad  characteristics  of 
a cat  may  sometimes  be  softened  by  tender  treatment.  I know 
of  an  instance  in  which  a guest  handled  a kitten  about  three 
months  old  rather  roughly.  When  released  the  kitten  fled  to 
safety;  she  was  not  accustomed  to  suffering  such  indignities  and 
she  resented  them.  Familiarity  always  breeds  contempt  in  a 
cat.  However,  once  the  guest  had  taken  his  departure  she  re- 
sumed her  old-time  offhand  manner  and  was  as  playful  as  pos- 
sible. A year  elapsed  before  the  offending  guest  again  ap- 
peared in  the  circle,  a year  during  which  the  kitten  had  grown 
into  cathood,  but  the  moment  the  young  man  entered  the  door 
she  disappeared  under  a bed  and  could  not  be  induced  to  come 
out  until  he  had  left.  Cats  have  long  memories.  Jessie  Pic- 
kens had  a very  remarkable  brown  tabby  Persian  who  snarled 
and  growled  and  spit  at  everybody  except  her  mistress.  She 
would  indeed  suffer  no  one  but  Jessie  to  come  near  her  at  all, 
but  for  Jessie  she  had  an  excessive  fondness  and  had  even 
crossed  the  Atlantic  in  her  cabin  seventeen  times.  Her 
fear  of  strangers  was  due  to  an  accident  which  occurred 
when  she  was  a kitten.  Willy,  really  a great  admirer  of 
cats  and  at  that  time  the  husband  of  Colette,  than  whom 
no  one  has  written  more  delicately  and  sensitively  about 
these  little  rogues  in  fur,  was  calling  one  day.  He  picked 
the  kitten  up  to  play  with  her  and  tossed  her  up  towards 
the  ceiling,  catching  her  as  she  dropped,  but  a sudden  twist 
and  puss  slipped  through  his  fingers,  falling  to  the  floor. 
With  a cry  of  terror  she  fled  from  the  room  and  it  was 
only  after  two  days  that  she  was  discovered  hiding  behind 
some  trunks  in  the  garret.  She  never  permitted  a stranger 
to  touch  her  again.  Another  cat  fell  into  a well.  He 
managed  to  keep  from  drowning  by  climbing  to  a small 
rock  and  in  time  he  was  rescued,  but  thereafter  he  was  com- 
pletely insane;  he  never  regained  interest  in  life  nor  seemed 
to  have  the  slightest  consciousness  of  what  was  going  on  about 

15 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

him.  Lindsay  has  culled  another  example  from  the  “ Ani- 
mal World.”  This  cat  was  frightened  by  a peacock;  a sort 
of  terror-mania  developed,  agoraphobia,  perhaps,  involving 
an  utter  loss  of  self-possession,  followed  by  a permanent  tim- 
idity that  permitted  the  animal  to  feed  only  in  his  master’s 
presence. 

Whether  they  inherit  these  traits  or  whether  their  manners 
and  habits  are  encouraged  or  embarrassed  by  treatment,  the 
fact  remains  that  there  are  all  kinds  of  cats,  cross  and  gentle, 
cruel  and  tender,  savage  and  tame.  The  curious  thing  is 
that  several  kittens  by  the  same  mother  brought  up  together 
in'  the  same  house  will  exhibit  many  differences.  Gautier 
describes  three  kittens  of  the  same  litter:  “ Enjolras  was 

solemn,  pretentious,  aldermanic  from  his  cradle;  even 
theatrical  at  times  in  his  vast  assumption  of  dignity.  Gavroche 
was  a born  Bohemian,  enamoured  of  low  company,  and  of  the 
careless  comedies  of  life.  Their  sister  Eiponine  — best  loved 
of  the  three  — was  a delicate,  fastidious  little  creature  with  an 
exquisite  sense  of  propriety,  and  of  the  refinements  of  social 
intercourse.  Enjolras  was  a glutton,  caring  for  nothing  so 
much  as  his  dinner.  Gavroche,  more  generous,  would  bring  in 
from  the  streets  gaunt  and  ragged  cats,  who  devoured  in  a 
scurry  of  fright  the  food  laid  aside  for  him.  I was  often 
tempted  to  remonstrate,  and  to  say  to  this  little  scamp,  ‘ A 
nice  lot  of  friends  you  do  pick  up  I ’ But  I refrained.  After 
all,  it  was  an  amiable  weakness.  He  might  have  eaten  his 
dinner  himself.” 

Madame  Michelet  thinks  that  colouring  may  have  some- 
thing to  do  with  temperament.  Black  cats,  according  to  this 
femme  savante,  have  passionate  and  sombre  characters.  The 
blondes  are  amiable  and  facile,  with  a certain  submerged  smil- 
ing melancholy.  Those  between  the  two  extremes,  neither 
blonde  nor  brunette,  have  equable  temperaments.  These 

22  “ Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals”;  Vol.  II,  P.  i86. 

23  “ Les  Chats.” 


i6 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

classifications  of  Madame  Michelet  will  be  considered 
rather  fantastic  by  any  one  who  has  known  cats  of  different 
colours. 

But  Diderot’s  “ il  y a chat  et  chat  ” is  certainly  just.  Some 
cats  are  cold  and  haughty,  imperious  and  ironic.  Other  cats 
are  so  frank,  so  persistent  in  demanding  affection,  that  they 
almost  lack  mystery.  There  are  cats  who  will  climb  on  any 
one  and  purr  with  delight.  Catnip  is  vodka  and  whisky  to 
most  cats,  but  Feathers  merely  sniffs  at  ft  and  walks  away. 
There  are  all  varieties  and  kinds  and  sorts  of  cats;  there  are 
long  and  short-haired  cats,  and  Mexican  cats  without  any  hair; 
there  are  strange  Australian  cats  with  long  pointed  noses  ; there 
are  Angora  and  Persian  and  Siamese  cats,  and  Manx  cats 
without  any  tails;  there  are  blue,  black,  and  white  cats;  there 
are  tortoise-shells  and  creams;  there  are  orange  and  silver  and 
chinchilla  cats;  there  are  combinations  of  all  these  colours; 
my  Feathers  is  tortoise-shell  and  white  smoke  tabby  queen, 
with  seven  toes  on  each  front  paw ! Seven  or  six-toed  cats 
are  by  no  means  rare.  Even  in  regard  to  the  freaks  of  catdom 
there  are  variations:  in  spite  of  much  popular  opinion  to  the 
contrary  white  cats  are  not  always  deaf,  tortoise-shells  are  not 
always  females,  and  orange  tabbies  are  not  always  males. 

Some  pussies'  coats  are  yellow;  some  amber  streaked  with  dark; 

No  member  of  the  feline  race  but  has  a special  mark. 

This  one  has  feet  with  hoarfrost  tipped;  that  one  has  tail  that  curls; 
Another's  inky  hide  is  striped;  another's  decked  with  pearls. 

Cats  loom  in  the  mind’s  eye,  indeed,  with  the  heroes  of 
history  and  the  characters  of  fiction:  Zola’s  roving  Angora, 

worsted  in  a street  fight,  and  Edward  Peple’s  roving  Angora 
who  does  up  an  alley  cat  and  returns  home  tired  and  happy; 
Baudelaire’s  occult  cat;  Lafcadio  Hearn’s  tortoise-shell,  Tama, 
who  played  with  her  dead  kittens  in  dreams,  cooing  to  them, 
catching  for  them  small  shadowy  things;  Corporal  Bunting’s 
devilishly  grim,  brindled,  bandit  cat,  Jacobina;  Madame  Joli- 

17 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

coeur’s  cuddlesome,  Shah  de  Perse,  whose  “ rare  little  cat  tan- 
trums were  but  as  sun-spots  on  the  effulgence  of  his  otherwise 
constant  amiability  Mr.  Tarkington’s  Gipsy,  “ half  broncho 
and  half  Malay  pirate”;  snarling,  green-eyed,  grey  Lady 
Jane,  who  follows  Mr.  Krook  about  in  “ Bleak  House  the 
pious  papal  cats  of  Leo  XII,  Gregory  XV,  and  Pius  IX;"'* 
the  playful  kitten  companions  of  Richelieu;  the  oyster-eating 
Hodge  of  Dr.  Johnson,  the  bane  of  Boswell;  Edward  Lear’s 
Old  Foss;  “ that  troublesome  old  rip,”  Hector  G.  Yelverton, 

When  Pius  IX  sat  down  to  dine,  his  cat  came  in  with  the  soup,  mounted  a 
chair  opposite  him,  and  dumbly  and  decorously  looked  on  until  the  pontiff  had 
finished  his  meal.  Then  he  received  his  own  at  his  master’s  hands  and  took 
leave  until  the  same  hour  next  day.  The  demise  of  puss  alarmed  the  Pope’s 
household,  lest  he  should  be  painfully  affected  by  the  loss  of  his  old  table  com- 
panion, but  His  Holiness  “ did  not  seem  to  care  a bit  more  about  it  than  he  had 
cared  for  the  death  of  his  secretary,  the  Cardinal  Antonelli.” 

25  The  fondness  of  Richelieu  for  kittens  has  been  generally  taken  for  granted 
and  is  stated  as  a fact  in  most  of  the  books  about  cats.  Champfleury,  however, 
questions  the  matter  in  a footnote:  “It  is  surprising  that  Moncrif,  who,  not- 

withstanding the  jesting  tone  of  his  book,  made  extensive  researches  on  the  sub- 
ject of  cats,  has  not  said  a word  about  Richelieu’s  passion  for  those  animals. 
Can  it  be  that  this  peculiarity,  attributed  to  a great  political  personage,  is  a 
legend  misapplied?  ‘Everybody  knows,’  says  Moncrif,  ‘that  one  of  the  greatest 
ministers  France  ever  possessed,  M.  Colbert,  always  had  a number  of  kittens 
playing  about  that  same  cabinet  in  which  so  many  institutions,  both  useful  and 
honourable  to  the  nation,  had  their  origin.’  ” . 

Alexandre  Landrin  (“Le  Chat,”  p.  93)  writes,  “With  Richelieu  the  taste  for 
cats  was  a mania ; when  he  rose  in  the  morning  and  when  he  went  to  bed  at  night 
he  was  always  surrounded  by  a dozen  of  them  with  which  he  played,  delighting 
to  watch  them  jump  and  gamble.  He  had  one  of  his  chambers  fitted  up  as  a 
cattery,  which  was  entrusted  to  overseers,  the  names  of  whom  are  known. 
Abel  and  Teyssandier  came,  morning  and  evening,  to  feed  the  cats  with  pates 
fashioned  of  the  white  meat  of  chicken.  At  his  death  Richelieu  left  a pension 
for  his  cats  and  to  Abel  and  Teyssandier  so  that  they  might  continue  to  care 
for  their  charges.  When  he  died  Richelieu  left  fourteen  cats  of  which  the  names 
were:  Mounard  le  Fougueux,  Soumise,  Serpolet,  Gazette,  Ludovic  le  Cruel,  Mimie 
Piaillon,  Feliraare,  Lucifer,  Lodoi'ska,  Rubis  sur  I’Ongle,  Pyrame,  Thisbe,  Racan, 
and  Perruque.  These  last  two  received  their  names  from  the  fact  that  they  were 
born  in  the  wig  of  Racan,  the  academician.” 

Gaston  Percheron  (“Le  Chat,”  p.  19)  writes,  “History  records  that  Richelieu 
with  one  hand  caressed  a family  of  cats  which  played  on  his  knees,  while  with 
the  other  he  signed  the  order  for  the  execution  of  Cinq-Mars.” 

18 


By  JVay  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

“with  no  more  principle  than  an  injun”;  Mr.  Garnett’s  in- 
domitable queen,  of  whom  has  been  written: 

And  all  the  TomSj  though  never  so  bold. 

Quailed  at  the  martial  Marigold. 

The  esoteric  procession  continues  to  pass  in  front  of  me: 
Scheffel’s  philosophical  and  lyrical  Tom  Cat,  Hiddigeigei,  of 
sable  coat  and  majestic  tail;  Hamilcar,^®  the  cat  of  Sylvestre 
Bonnard,  who  combined  in  his  personality  the  formidable 
aspect  of  a Tartar  chief  with  the  heavy  grace  of  an  odalisque; 
John  F.  Runciman’s  Felix-Mendelssohn-Bartholdy-Shedlock- 
Runciman-Felinis,  who  spit  at  hansoms  at  the  age  of  six 
months  and  later  attempted  to  play  the  viola-alta  by  trailing 
the  bow  across  the  floor,  and  his  Minnie  who  used  to  put  dogs 
to  rout  and  died  of  eating  needles;  the  charming  Kallikrates 
of  W.  L.  George’s  “ Blind  Alley’’;  Tieck’s  prodigiously  de- 
lightful Hinze;  Alexandre  Dumas’s  clairvoyant  Mysouff,  who 
once  ate  a 500  franc  breakfast;  the  terrible  one-eyed  Pluto 
of  Poe’s  story  and  the  one-eyed  Wotan,  Kraft’s  cat  in 
“Maurice  Guest’’;  Mr.  Warner’s  sage  Calvin  and  Mark 
Twain’s  Tom  Quartz,  who  objected  to  quartz  mining;  Agnes 
Repplier’s  Agrippina  and  Lux;  John  Silence’s  psychic  cat. 
Smoke,  who  loved  to  rub  up  against  the  legs  of  spirits;  the 
gamine  cat,  Fanchette,  of  the  adorable  Claudine;  Dr.  Nicola’s 
eschatological  cat,  Apollyon,  who  was  privy  to  the  mysteries 
of  cartomancy;  Dickens’s  Williamina  (first  named  William) ; 
Southey’s  Rumpel,  “ the  Most  Noble  the  Archduke  Rumpel- 
stiltzchen,  Marcus  Macbum,  Earl  Tomlefnagne,  Baron  Rati- 
cide, Waowhler  and  Scratch”;  Chateaubriand’s  greyish  red 
Micetto,  the  gift  of  a Pope;  Tom  Hood’s  Tabitha  Longclaws 

Hamilcar  was  Anatole  France’s  own  cat.  After  his  death  he  was  succeeded 
by  a cat  named  Pascal  by  France’s  cook,  who  had  overheard  a luncheon  con- 
versation about  the  French  philosopher.  Pascal  was  a stray  cat  who  wandered 
in  from  the  streets,  liked  the  “ city  of  books,”  and  decided  to  remain.  He  al- 
ways maintained  his  independence,  and  sometimes  went  away  for  a week  at  a 
time. 


19 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Tiddleywink  and  her  three  kittens,  Pepperpot,  Scratchaway, 
and  Sootikins;  the  black  cat  of  Fray  Inocencio  called  Timoteo, 
a name  “ bestowed  upon  him  for  the  reason  that  this  is  a name 
well  suited  to  a cat,  and  also  in  derisive  reprobation  of  that 
schismatic  monophysite  of  Egypt,  who  in  the  fifth  century 
usurped  the  Patriarchate,  and  was  known  popularly  as 
‘Timothy  the  Cat.’”;  later  this  puss  was  called  Susurro,^^ 
which  in  Spanish  signifies  Purrer;  Sandy  Jenkins’s  hoodoo  cat, 
Mesmerizer ; Theophile  Gautier’s  Madame  Theophile,  who 
delighted  in  perfumes  and  music,  India  shawls  lifted  from 
boxes  of  sandalwood,  and  faint  aromatic  odours  of  the  East; 
Victor  Hugo’s  Chanoine  and  Sir  Walter  Scott’s  Hinse;  Pierre 
Loti’s  M'oumoutte  Blanche  and  Moumoutte  Chinoise;  the 
wicked  Rutterkin  of  ways  mephitic;  and  Rosamund  Marriot 
Watson’s  Egyptian  cat  desired  by  Arsinoe : 

A little  lion,  small  and  dainty  sweet 
{For  such  there  be!) 

With  sea-grey  eyes  and  softly  stepping  feet. 

On  strings  the  solemn  march: 

Les  chats  prudents,  les  chats  silencieux, 

Promenant  leur  beaute,  leur  grace  et  leur  mystere, 

“ furred  serpents,”  “ green-eyed  Venuses,”  the  “ house-ani- 
mal,” the  ” fireside  sphinx,”  “ rat-eater,”  “ mouse-enemy,” 
the  “ panther  of  the  hearth,”  “ cats  ...  of  titles  obsolete  or 
yet  in  use,  Tom,  Tybert,  Roger,  Rutterkin,  or  Puss,” 

Calumnious  cats,  who  circulate  faux  pas. 

And  reputations  maul  with  murderous  claws; 

Shrill  cats,  whom  fierce  domestic  brawls  delight. 

Cross  cats,  who  nothing  want  but  teeth  to  bite. 

Starch  cats  of  puritanic  aspect  sad. 

And  learned  cats  who  talk  their  husbands  mad; 
***** 

Asura,  the  ancient  Aryan  name  for  deity,  signifies  the  breather. 


20 


By  Way  of  Correcting  a Popular  Prejudice 

Uncleanly  cats  who  never  pare  their  nails, 

Cat-gossips,  full  of  Canterbury  tales; 

Cat-grandams,  vex'd  with  asthmas  and  catarrhs. 

And  superstitious  cats,  who  curse  their  stars. 


21 


Chapter  ’Two:  Treating  of  Traits 

Now  that  I have,  perhaps,  convinced  the  reader  that  cats 
have  character,  it  is  time  to  assert  with  equal  positiveness  that 
cats  have  characteristics.  No  cat-lover  would  be  willing  to 
deny  this,  for  the  characteristics  of  the  cat  are  what  make  her 
generally  beloved.  Many  of  these  traits  are  born  of  feral 
habits,  hundreds  and  even  thousands  of  years  old.  The 
dog  is  an  animal  who  in  the  wild  state  travels  in  packs; 
he  follows  his  leader  in  hunting  expeditions.  In  the  do- 
mestic state  he  transfers  this  allegiance  from  his  leader 
to  his  master,  for  man  is  literally  the  master  of  the  dog, 
as  he  is  of  the  horse  and  the  ass,  and  as  he  has  been 
of  the  maid-servant.  The  cat  on  the  other  hand,  in 
the  wild  state  hunted  and  lived  alone;  he  retains  the  inde- 
pendent habits  of  such  a condition.  Observe,  for  instance, 
a dog  eating:  if  a man  or  another  dog  approaches  him 
he  will  growl.  He  has  a racial  memory  of  fighting  for  the 
best  food  and  it  is  his  instinct  to  bolt  it  down  before  it  can  be 
taken  away  from  him.  A cat,  ordinarily  (there  are  excep- 
tions, as  I have  previously  pointed  out),  displays  no  such 
trepidation.  Accustomed  as  a wild  animal  to  eating  alone  in 
tranquillity,  as  a domestic  he  usually  eats  slowly  and  with  de- 
corum, having  no  instinctive  fear  that  his  food  will  be  stolen. 

Similarly  a cat’s  regard  for  his  person  is  acutely  traceable 
to  a memory  of  life  in  the  forest  and  plain.  A cat  does  not 
chase  his  prey  as  a dog  does;  he  can  run  swiftly  for  a short 
distance,  but  running  is  not  his  specialty.  He  lies  in  wait  for 
his  quarry  and  pounces  upon  it  suddenly.  Now  some  of  the  ani- 
mals of  which  the  cat  is  most  fond  for  food,  notably  the  mouse, 
have  a keener  sense  of  smell  than  their  enemy;  It  is  therefore 


22 


Treating  of  Traits 

essential  for  the  good  mouser  to  be  devoid  of  odour.  Conse- 
quently he  washes  and  rewashes  his  fur  and  trims  his  whiskers 
to  the  last  speck.  “ The  love  of  dress  is  very  marked  in  this 
attractive  animal,”  writes  Champfleury;  “ he  is  proud  of  the 
lustre  of  his  coat,  and  cannot  endure  that  a hair  of  it  shall  lie 
the  wrong  way.  When  the  cat  has  eaten,  he  passes  his  tongue 
several  times  over  both  sides  of  his  jaws,  and  his  whiskers,  in 
order  to  clean  them  thoroughly;  he  keeps  his  coat  clean  with 
a prickly  tongue  which  fulfills  the  office  of  a curry-comb;  but 
as,  notwithstanding  its  suppleness,  it  is  difficult  for  the  cat  to 
reach  the  upper  part  of  his  head  with  the  tongue;  he  makes  use 
of  his  paw,  moistened  with  saliva,  to  polish  that  portion.” 
Hippolyte  Taine  has  written  a charming  description  of  the 
operation : 

His  tongue  is  sponge,  and  brush,  and  towel,  and  curry-comb, 

IV ell  he  knows  what  work  it  can  be  made  to  do. 

Poor  little  wash-rag,  smaller  than  my  thumb. 

His  nose  touches  his  back,  touches  his  hind  paws  too. 

Every  patch  of  fur  is  raked,  and  scraped,  and  smoothed; 

What  more  has  Goethe  done,  what  more  could  Voltaire  dof 

A similar  instinct  induces  the  cat  to  bury  his  offal,  an  instinct 
which  leads  him  to  do  a deal  of  scratching  in  the  domestic  pan. 

Louis  Robinson  ^ has  expressed  an  interesting  and  credible 
theory  to  the  effect  that  even  the  cat’s  colouring  and  the  habit 
of  hissing  or  spitting  are  protective  mimicry.  The  most  ag- 
gressive enemy  of  the  cat  in  the  wild  state  is  the  eagle.  Now 
it  is  known  that  all  animals  (save  perhaps  the  cat!)  fear 
snakes.  Tabby  markings  are  the  most  common  coloration  in 
felines.  If  you  observe  a tabby  cat  rolled  up  asleep  with  his 
head  in  the  centre  of  the  coil  you  may  note  that  he  bears  a 
very  fair  resemblance  to  a coiled  serpent,  quite  enough  resem- 
blance to  deceive  an  eagle  in  the  air.  Again,  suppose  a cat  has 

i“WiId  Traits  in  Tame  Animals.” 


23 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Loncealed  her  kittens  In  a hollow  tree.  At  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  they  begin  to  spit,  and  this  spitting  sounds  very  much 
like  the  hissing  of  a snake.  No  fox  will  stick  his  nose  into  the 
dark  hollow  of  a tree  from  which  hisses  are  ejected. 

The  cat  is  an  anarchist,  while  the  dog  is  a socialist.  He  Is 
an  aristocratic,  tyrannical  anarchist,  at  that. 

So  Tiberius  might  have  sat, 

Had  Tiberius  been  a cat, 

wrote  Matthew  Arnold  in  a moment  of  wise  inspiration.  He 
prefers  delicate  textures,  rich  foods,  and  the  best  of  every- 
thing.^ “ It, is  necessary  to  say  that  if  the  cat  holds  a big 
place  In  the  household  It  is  not  alone  by  his  graces  of  spoiled 
child,  his  loving  calineries,  and  the  seductive  abandon  of  his 
lovely  Indolence;  more  than  anything  It  is  because  he  demands 
so  much.  His  personality  is  strong,  his  awakenings  and  his 
wishes  impatient.  He  refuses  to  wait.  Under  his  supple 
grace  his  gesture  Is  one  of  insistence  and  command.  You  de- 
fend yourself  In  vain,  he  Is  master  and  you  yield.”  Thus  has 
written  Madame  Michelet,-"*  of  whom  her  husband,  the  good 
Jules,  once  retorted  to  her  boast  that  she  had  owned  a hundred 
cats,  “ Rather  a hundred  cats  have  owned  you ! ” A writer  In 
the  “Spectator”^  describes  a typical  cat:  “We  have  seen 

a tabby  with  a black  muzzle  who,  for  cold,  calculated,  and  yet 

2 “ It  is  odd  that  cats  show  an  intense  dislike  to  anything  destined  or  set  apart 
for  them.  Mentu  had  a basket  of  his  own,  and  a cushion  made  by  a fond  mis- 
tress, but  to  put  him  into  it  was  to  make  him  bound  out  like  an  india-rubber  ball. 
He  liked  to  occupy  proper  chairs  and  sofas,  or  even  proper  hearthrugs.  In  the 
same  way,  the  well-bred  cat  has  an  inconvenient  but  aesthetic  preference  for 
eating  its  food  in  pleasant  places,  even  as  we  consume  chilly  tea  and  dusty 
bread  and  butter  in  a summer  glade.  A plate  is  distasteful  to  a cat,  a news- 
paper still  worse;  they  like  to  eat  sticky  pieces  of  meat  sitting  on  a cushioned 
chair  or  a nice  Persian  rug.  Yet  if  these  were  dedicated  to  this  use  they  would 
remove  elsewhere.  Hence  the  controversy  is  interminable.”  Margaret  Benson 
in  “ The  Soul  of  a Cat.” 

3 “ Les  Chats,”  p.  17. 

4 “The  Cat  as  Unconscious  Humorist”  in  “The  Spectator”:  August  2,  1890. 

24 


THIS  BROWN  TABBY  SHORT-HAIRED  CAT  IS  NAMED  MARY  GARDEN 
From  a copyright  photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 


- 


Treating  of  Traits 

perfectly  well-bred  Insolence,  could  have  given  points  to  a 
spiteful  dowager  duchess  whose  daughter-in-law  ‘ wasn’t  one  of 
us,  you  know.’  The  heartless  and  deliberate  rudeness  of  that 
cat’s  behaviour  on  occasion  would,  had  she  been  a man,  have 
unquestionably  justified  shooting  at  sight.  The  courtiers  In 
the  most  slavish  palace  in  the  East  would  have  rebelled  had 
they  received  the  treatment  she  meted  out  daily  to  those  who 
waited  on  her  hand  and  foot.  After  a devoted  admirer  had 
hunted  breathless  and  bare-headed  over  a large  garden,  and 
under  a blazing  July  sun,  lest  puss  should  lose  her  dinner,  and 
had  at  last  brought  her  Into  the  dining-room  In  his  arms,  that 
cat,  instead  of  showing  gratitude,  and  instead  of  running  with 
pleasure  to  the  plate  prepared  for  her,  has  been  known  to  sit 
bolt  upright  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  regarding  the  whole 
table  with  a look  of  undisguised  contempt,  her  eyes  super- 
ciliously half-shut  and  a tiny  speck  of  red  tongue  protruding 
between  her  teeth.  If  the  thing  had  not  been  so  exceedingly 
well  done  It  would  have  been  simply  vulgar;  as  it  was  it 
amounted  to  the  most  exasperating  form  of  genteel  brutality 
Imaginable.  The  company  having  been  at  last  thoroughly 
stared  out  of  countenance  and  put  down  by  this  monstrous  ex- 
hibition of  Intentional  rudeness,  the  cat  In  question  slowly  rose 
to  her  feet,  and  digging  her  claws  well  into  the  carpet, 
stretched  and  balanced  herself,  while  yawning  at  the  same  time 
with  lazy  self-satisfaction.  After  this  she  proceeded  by  the 
most  circuitous  route  obtainable  to  the  plate  put  before  her, 
evidently  intending  it  to  be  clearly  understood  that  she  held 
Its  presence  under  the  side-board  to  be  due  In  some  way  or 
other  to  her  own  skill  and  forethought,  and  that  she  in  no 
sense  regarded  herself  as  beholden  to  any  other  person.”  The 
cat  Is  the  only  animal  that  lives  with  man  on  terms  of  equality, 
nay  superiority.  He  willingly  domesticates  himself  but  on  his 
own  conditions  and  never  gives  up  his  complete  liberty  no  mat- 
ter how  closely  he  Is  confined.  He  preserves  his  Independence 
In  this  unequal  struggle  even  at  the  cost  of  his  life.  A common 

25 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

tom  cat,  living  on  the  domestic  hearth,  on  the  best  of  footings 
with  the  family,  visits  the  rooftops  and  the  fences,  becomes  a 
leading  figure  at  prize-fights,  negotiates  his  amours  on  a lavish 
scale,  and  otherwise  conducts  himself  when  he  Is  away  from 
the  house  exactly  as  he  would  in  the  Incult  state.  Indeed, 
when  he  is  thrown  on  his  own  resources,  as  frequently  happens 
both  In  town  and  country,  he  is  perfectly  capable  of  taking  care 
of  himself  and  adjusts  himself  to  the  new  conditions  without  a 
moment’s  hesitation.  This  characteristic  is  admirably  illus- 
trated in  a story  by  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts,®  a story  founded 
on  a true  Incident.  A dog  In  a similar  predicament  would  be 
entirely  helpless;  the  dog,  indeed.  In  submitting  to  slavery,  has 
entirely  lost  the  power  to  take  care  of  himself  when  occasion 
arises. 

It  has  amused  Mr.  Booth  Tarkington,  and  his  readers  will 
share  this  jocund  emotion,  to  paint  a picture  of  such  a cat,®  a 
prodigious  lanky  beast  who  has  forsaken  the  comforts  of  the 
fireside  and  the  affections  of  a little  girl  for  the  pleasures  of 
wild  life  and  the  chase.  He  had  been  a roly-poly,  pepper-and- 
salt  kitten,  named  Gipsy,  a name  to  which  In  his  subsequent 
career  he  gave  real  meaning.  Early  In  youth  he  began  to 
dissipate  and  was  wont  to  join  rowdy  alley  cats  In  their  mid- 
night maraudings.  His  taste  for  a fast  life  increased  with 
age  and  one  night,  carrying  the  evening  beefsteak  with  him, 
he  joined  the  underworld. 

“ His  extraordinary  size,  his  daring,  and  his  utter  lack  of 
sympathy  soon  made  him  the  leader  — and,  at  the  same  time, 
the  terror  — of  all  the  loose-lived  cats  in  a wide  neighbour- 
hood. He  contracted  no  friendships  and  had  no  confidents. 
He  seldom  slept  in  the  same  place  twice  in  succession,  and 
though  he  was  wanted  by  the  police,  he  was  not  found.  In 
appearance  he  did  not  lack  distinction  of  an  ominous  sort; 
the  slow,  rhythmic,  perfectly  controlled  mechanism  of  his 

® “ How  a cat  played  Robinson  Crusoe”  in  “Neighbours  Unknown,”  p.  175. 

® “ Penrod  and  Sam,”  Chapter  XII. 

26 


Treating  of  Traits 

tail,  as  he  impressively  walked  abroad,  was  incomparably 
sinister.  This  stately  and  dangerous  walk  of  his,  his  long, 
vibrant  whiskers,  his  scars,  his  yellow  eye,  so  ice-cold,  so  fire- 
hot,  haughty  as  the  eye  of  Satan,  gave  him  the  deadly  air  of  a 
mousquetaire  duelist.  His  soul  was  in  that  walk  and  in  that 
eye;  it  could  be  read  — the  soul  of  a bravo  of  fortune,  living 
on  his  wits  and  his  valour,  asking  no  favours  and  granting  no 
quarter.  Intolerant,  proud,  sullen,  yet  watchful  and  con- 
stantly planning  — purely  a militarist,  believing  in  slaughter  as 
in  religion,  and  confident  that  art,  science,  poetry,  and  the  good 
of  the  world  were  happily  advanced  thereby  — Gipsy  had  be- 
come, though  technically  not  a wild  cat,  undoubtedly  the  most 
untamed  cat  at  large  in  the  civilized  world.” 

The  cat  whose  portrait  Mr.  Tarkington  has  painted  in  these 
few  brilliant  strokes,  discovers  the  back-bone  of  a three-pound 
white-fish  lying  within  a few  inches  of  the  nose  of  Penrod’s 
old  dog,  Duke,  and  Duke  awakens  to  the  terrifying  spectacle 
of  the  cat,  bearing  the  fishbone  in  his  horrid  jaws.  “ Out 
from  one  side  of  his  head,  and  mingling  with  his  whiskers, 
projected  the  long,  spiked  spine  of  the  big  fish;  down  from  the 
other  side  of  that  ferocious  head  dangled  the  fish’s  tail,  and 
from  above  the  remarkable  effect  thus  produced  shot  the  in- 
tolerable glare  of  two  yellow  eyes.  To  the  gaze  of  Duke,  still 
blurred  by  slumber,  this  monstrosity  was  all  of  one  piece  — the 
bone  seemed  a living  part  of  it.”  Duke  gave  a shriek  of 
terror  and  the  massacre  began.  Gipsy,  too,  sounded  his  war- 
cry,  “ the  subterranean  diapason  of  a demoniac  bass  viol.” 
Then,  “ never  releasing  the  fishbone  for  an  instant,  he  laid 
back  his  ears  in  a chilling  way,  beginning  to  shrink  into  him- 
self like  a concertina,  but  rising  amidships  so  high  that  he  ap- 
peared to  be  giving  an  imitation  of  that  peaceful  beast,  the 
dromedary.  Such  was  not  his  purpose,  however,  for  having 
attained  his  greatest  possible  altitude,  he  partially  sat  down 
and  elevated  his  right  arm  after  the  manner  of  a semaphore. 
This  semaphore  arm  remained  rigid  for  a second,  threatening; 

27 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

then  it  vibrated  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  feinting.  But  it 
was  the  treacherous  left  that  did  the  work.  Seemingly  this 
left  gave  Duke  three  lightning  little  pats  upon  the  left  ear,  but 
the  change  in  his  voice  indicated  that  these  were  no  love-taps. 
He  yelled,  ‘help!’  and  ‘bloody  murder!’  . . . Gipsy  pos- 
sessed a vocabulary  for  cat-swearing  certainly  second  to  none 
out  of  Italy,  and  probably  equal  to  the  best  there.”  Presently, 
this  time  with  his  right  paw,  he  drew  blood  from  Duke’s  nose, 
but  on  the  approach  of  Penrod  he  saw  fit  to  retire,  not  out  of 
fear,  Mr.  Tarkington  explains,  but  probably  because  he  could 
not  spit  without  dropping  the  fishbone,  and,  “ as  all  cats  of 
the  slightest  pretensions  to  technique  perfectly  understand,  this 
can  neither  be  well  done  nor  produce  the  best  effects  unless  the 
mouth  be  opened  to  its  utmost  capacity  so  as  to  expose  the 
beginnings  of  the  alimentary  canal.” 

Gipsy  should  not  be  regarded  as  a curious  exception  in  the 
feline  world.  The  cat,  indeed,  is  the  only  animal  without 
visible  means  of  support  who  still  manages  to  find  a living  in 
the  city.  I do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  cats  do.  Both  in  the 
city  and  in  the  country  cats  without  homes,  and  even  cats  with 
homes,  are  largely  at  the  mercy  of  a great  many  enemies,  both 
aggressive  and  accidental.  The  wicked  small  boy,  the  automo- 
bile, the  dog,  the  tram-car,  the  rabbit-trap,  all  quickly  put  an 
end  to  many  superfluous  pussies’  lives,  but  it  is  equally  certain 
that  the  number  of  apparently  unprovided-for  cats  who  live 
wild  lives  in  both  city  and  country  is  very  large  indeed.  Some 
of  the  males  become  enormous,  fat  and  sleek,  living  on  the 
contents  of  stray  ashcans,  occasionally  stealing  better  food 
through  an  open  window,  catching  mice  in  warehouses  and 
sparrows  In  parks.  Even  the  females  manage  somehow  not 
only  to  care  for  themselves  but  also  to  bring  up  families.'^ 

The  cat’s  ability  to  leap  and  climb  gives  him  a marked  advantage  both  in 
hunting  and  escaping  from  his  enemies.  It  is  a curious  fact,  however,  that  cats 
who  climb  to  considerable  heights  frequently  refuse  to  descend  from  more 
modest  ones.  A cat  in  a tree,  whither  he  has  fled  from  a dog,  or  in  a second 
storey  window,  yowling  piteously,  is  no  uncommon  sight.  Sometimes  the  rescue 

28 


Treating  of  Traits 

Water  alone  Is  sometimes  difficult  or  Impossible  to  procure, 
but  cats  can  do  without  water  for  several  days,  the  blood  auto- 
matically thickening.  One  very  hot  August  Sunday  afternoon 
walking  up  Fifth  Avenue  I observed  a large  orange  tabby  tom 
rubbing  himself  against  a hydrant  and  mewing.  I stopped  to 
speak  with  him,  as  is  my  custom  with  cats,  when  an  Irish  police- 
man approached.  “ I believe  he  wants  a drink,”  suggested 
this  very  intelligent  officer.  “ He’s  noticed  that  water  some- 
times comes  from  that  hydrant.”  ” I think  you  are  right,” 
I replied.  “ Let’s  get  him  one.”  Now  a cat  will  not  take 
an  excursion  merely  because  a man  wants  a walking  com- 
panion. Walking  is  a human  habit  into  which  dogs  readily 
fall  but  it  is  a distasteful  form  of  exercise  to  a cat  unless  he 
has  a purpose  in  view.  I have  never  known  a cat  with  a 
purpose  In  view  to  refuse  a walk.  This  case  was  no  exception. 
The  orange  tabby  was  a complete  stranger  to  both  the  police- 
man and  myself  and  yet  when  we  suggested  a little  drink  he 
walked  peaceably  a little  way  behind  us  as  we  strolled  down 
Fifth  Avenue.  “ I think  Page  and  Shaw’s  is  open,”  said  the 
policeman.  Now  Page  and  Shaw’s  was  three  blocks  below 
the  hydrant  and  yet  that  cat  followed  at  our  heels.  When 
we  arrived  at  the  shop  I asked  Tom  to  sit  down  for  a moment; 
the  policeman  went  in  and  presently  emerged  with  a paper  cup 
full  of  water.  Tom  drank  every  bit  of  this  and  then  asked 
for  more.  He  had  another  cup.  Then,  having  no  further 
use  for  us,  without  a word  or  gesture  he  trotted  off. 

An  ingenious  friend  of  Louis  Robinson  suggested  to  him 
that  cats  may  look  upon  man  as  “ a kind  of  locomotive  tree, 
pleasant  to  rub  against,  the  lower  limbs  of  which  afford  a com- 
fortable seat,  and  from  whose  upper  branches  occasionally 

of  such  a cat  becomes  an  international  matter.  It  has  even  been  found  expedient, 
on  occasion,  to  call  out  the  fire  department.  It  should  be  remembered  that  a fall 
from  any  considerable  height  is  a serious  matter  for  a cat.  In  spite  of  the  popu- 
lar superstition  that  he  always  lights  on  his  feet,  he  is  quite  likely  to  break  his 
spine. 


29 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

drop  tid-bits  of  mutton  and  other  luscious  fruit.”  ® There  is 
a good  deal  to  be  said  for  this  theory.  However  cats  have 
been  known  to  give  a more  complete  affection.  Most  cats 
are  ready  with  very  friendly  morning  greetings  but  there  is 
even  a certain  reserve  in  these  attentions,  a reserve  which  in- 
creases as  the  day  lengthens.  There  is  none  of  the  excessive 
cataglottism  indulged  in  by  canines.  Cats  only  give  affection 
where  it  is  deserved,  except  sometimes  through  sheer  per- 
versity when  they  annoy  an  ailurophobe  with  their  attentions. 
Return  good  for  evil  is  not  in  the  cat’s  book  of  rules.  To  a 
person  deserving  of  their  friendship,  however,  they  occasion- 
ally pour  out  a really  deep  and  beautiful  affection.  This  is 
slow  in  growing  and  may  be  easily  interrupted.  Cats  will  not 

tolerate  rough  handling,  beating,  or  teasing.  They  dislike 

exceedingly  to  be  laughed  at.  A seeker  of  a cat’s  affection 
must  therefore  proceed  with  care;  in  time  he  may  receive  some 
of  the  benefits  due  him,  but,  if  he  offends  his  cat  friend,  the 
work  of  the  past  is  all  undone.  Cats  seldom  make  mistakes 
and  they  never  make  the  same  mistake  twice.  How  stupid 
a cat  must  think  a human  being  who  is  constantly  repeating  the 
same  errors ! A cat  can  be  duped  but  once  in  his  life  ® as 

® The  following  curious  description  of  the  cat  from  Edward  Topsell’s  “ History 
of  Four-footed  Beasts”  (1658)  is  interesting  enough  to  quote:  “It  is  needless 

to  spend  any  time  over  her  loving  nature  to  man,  how  she  flattereth  by  rubbing 
her  skin  against  one’s  legs,  how  she  whurleth  with  her  voice,  having  as  many 
tunes  as  turnes,  for  she  hath  one  voice  to  beg  and  to  complain,  another  to  testify 
her  delight  and  pleasure,  another  among  her  own  kind  by  flattering,  by  hissing, 
by  puffing,  by  spitting,  in  so  much  that  some  have  thought  that  they  have  a 
peculiar  intelligible  language  among  themselves.  Therefore  how  she  playeth, 
leapeth,  looketh,  catcheth,  tosseth  with  her  foot,  riseth  up  to  strings  held  over  her 
head,  sometimes  creeping,  sometimes  lying  on  the  back,  playing  with  foot,  appre- 
hending greedily  anything  save  the  hand  of  a man,  with  divers  such  gestical 
actions,  it  is  needless  to  stand  upon;  in  so  much  as  Collins  was  wont  to  say,  that 
being  free  from  his  studies  and  more  urgent  weighty  affairs,  he  was  not  ashamed 
to  play  and  sport  himself  with  his  cat,  and  verily  it  may  be  called  an  idle  man’s 
pastime.” 

® An  incident  described  by  Louis  de  Grammont  is  typical  of  the  cat’s  instinct  in 
this  respect;  A friend  of  mine  occupied  a house  in  which  gas  was  used  for 
cooking.  He  had  a cat  which  at  the  period  of  which  I write  was  the  mother  of 

30 


Treating  of  Traits 

there  is  plenty  of  proverbial  evidence  to  prove.  The  cele- 
brated affair  of  the  cat  and  the  chestnuts  is  the  only  historic  or 
fabulous  occasion  on  which  the  cat  has  been  fooled. 

Cats  can  be,  most  of  them  are,  very  cruel,  but  I think  that 
George  J.  Romanes’s  assumption  that  they  torture  mice 
simply  for  torture’s  sake  is  wholly  unjustifiable.  Occasionally 
this  may  be  true.  The  Reverend  J.  G.  Wood’s  remarkable 
cat,  Pret,  had  a habit  of  carrying  his  trembling  and  terrified 
mouse  quite  alive  to  the  very  top  of  the  five-storey  house  in 
which  she  resided  and  then  dropping  it  down  the  well  in  the 
centre  of  the  circular  staircase  and  watching  results  with  eager 
eyes  from  between  the  banisters. “ But  the  fact  remains  that 
if  a cat  is  going  to  keep  himself  in  any  kind  of  hunting  condi- 
tion a certain  amount  of  practice  is  necessary  and  practice  on  a 
live  animal  is  better  practice  than  practice  with  a ball  or  a piece 
of  paper  with  which  the  kitten  takes  his  first  lessons  in  pounc- 
ing on  prey.^^  Some  mother  cats,  indeed,  have  been  known 
to  keep  hunting  preserves  of  slightly  wounded  animals,  released 

two  half-grown  kittens.  At  dinner  these  cats,  very  badly  bred,  had  the  habit  of 
jumping  on  the  table  and  helping  themselves  to  such  morsels  as  they  could  se- 
cure. One  day  at  luncheon  the  cats  were  on  the  table  as  usual  when  the  servant 
brought  in  the  cutlets.  At  the  same  instant  there  was  an  explosion.  Upon  in- 
quiry it  was  discovered  that  the  cook  had  been  careless  and  that  there  had  been 
a slight  explosion  of  gas.  No  one  was  injured  and  everybody  took  his  place 
again  at  the  table  except  the  cats  who,  thoroughly  frightened,  had  disappeared. 
They  did  not  come  back,  indeed,  for  several  days.  When  they  finally  returned 
their  fear  was  gone  and  they  resumed  their  former  habits.  But  some  weeks 
later,  when  the  maid  again  brought  cutlets  to  the  table,  they  fled  at  once.  They 
had  connected  the  explosion  with  the  appearance  of  cutlets! 

Animal  Intelligence.” 

“ Glimpses  into  Petland,”  p.  30. 

12  Madame  Michelet  is  not  of  the  opinion  that  all  of  the  play  of  the  kitten  is 
an  apprenticeship  for  the  chase  (“Les  Chats,”  p.  48):  “A  world  of  ideas,  of 

images  awake  first  in  him,  which  are  not  images  of  prey.  That  will  come  to 
him,  but  later.  The  first  attraction  for  him,  as  for  a baby,  is  the  thing  that 
moves.  It  seems  that  this  life  of  objects  deceives  their  immobility.  Both  follow 
these  movements  with  an  eye  at  first  uncertain,  but  soon  they  are  captivated. 
The  infant  wishes  to  seize  the  ball  suspended  to  the  cradle  and  the  kitten  in  the 
evening  pursues  his  shadow.  Tigrine  showed  a very  lively  taste  for  these  sil- 
houettes, which  assumed  in  her  eyes  more  reality  than  the  object  itself.” 

31 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

on  occasion  for  their  kittens  to  play  with.  This  instinct,  too, 
accounts  for  the  seemingly  needless  slaughter  indulged  in  by 
some  cat-hunters,  who  kill  and  bring  in  eight  or  ten  times  as 
much  game  as  they  consume.  It  may  also  be  true  that  some 
cats  carry  the  love  of  hunting  far  beyond  necessity;  there  is 
reason  to  suppose,  indeed,  that  some  cats  love  hunting  as  much 
as  Theodore  Roosevelt  loved  it,  and  why,  in  the  name  of  all 
that  is  just,  should  they  not  love  it?  There  are  those  who 
protest  against  the  killing  of  wild  life  by  cats  who  see  no  evil 
in  leading  tame  lambs  and  calves  to  the  slaughter,  who  enjoy 
eating  lobsters  that  have  been  boiled  alive,  who  wear  on  their 
hats  aigrettes  torn  from  the  breasts  of  live  nesting  birds, 
who  send  cows  on  long  sickening  ocean  journeys  crowded  so 
closely  together  that  they  can  scarcely  lie  down,  or  pack 
chickens  in  crates  so  tightly  that  they  cannot  move.  People 
who  go  fox-hunting  three  times  a week  in  the  season  object 
to  a cat  torturing  a mouse. Even  owners  of  factories  em- 
ploying child  labour  and  dramatic  critics  have  told  me  that  cats 
are  cruel.  Now  a cat,  like  a man,  is  a carnivorous  animal;  he 
is  even  more  so  than  a man,  for  a healthy  cat  must  have  animal 
food  while  a healthy  man  {vide  Bernard  Shaw)  may  subsist 
entirely  on  fruits  and  nuts.  He  is  therefore  following  a 
natural  instinct  in  killing  birds  and  mice  and  he  Is  keeping 
himself  In  training  when  he  subjects  his  captures  to  a certain 
amount  of  torture.  “ But  cats  resemble  tigers?  They  are 
tigers  in  miniature?  Well, — and  very  pretty  miniatures  they 
are,”  writes  Leigh  Hunt.  “ And  what  has  the  tiger  himself 
done,  that  he  has  not  a right  to  eat  his  dinner,  as  well  as  Jones  ? 
. . . Deprive  Jones  of  his  dinner  for  a day  or  two  and  see 
what  a state  he  will  be  In.”  Of  course,  one  may  bell  the  cat, 
which  simply  means  to  tie  a loud  sounding  bell  around  puss’s 
neck.  Then  as  he  runs  or  springs  the  bell  warns  the  bird  to 
fly  away.  Unfortunately  for  the  success  of  this  expedient  an 

But  they  see  no  harm  in  teaching  dogs  to  hunt.  The  crime  of  the  cat  is 
that  he  does  his  own  hunting  instead  of  man’s. 

32 


THE  CAT  AND  THE  FROG 

From  a drawing  by  Steinlen  in  Des  Chats 


Treating  of  Traits 

intelligent  cat  who  is  also  an  obstinate  hunter  will  soon  learn  to 
hold  the  bell  under  his  chin  in  such  a manner  that  it  will  not 
ring. 

Cats,  of  course,  are  determined  fighters,  but  these  fights 
are  like  the  romantic  combats  of  chivalry,  or  the  brabbles  of 
the  apaches  of  modern  Paris:  they  are  broils  over  the  female 
of  the  species.  For  the  cat  is  a great  lover.  The  amount  of 
amorous  instinct  in  a healthy  full-grown  tom  can  scarcely  be 
overestimated.  And  any  attempt  at  holding  this  instinct  in 
check,  short  of  castration,  is  usually  frustrated.  As  Remy 
de  Gourmont  has  pointed  out,  chastity  is  a quixotic  ideal 
towards  which  only  man  in  the  animal  kingdom  strives.  It 
is  impossible  even  to  keep  a silky  Angora,  whose  ancestors 
have  all  been  housebred,  sequestered  for  any  length  of  time 
unless  he  has  become  a neuter.  Any  one  who  tries  it  will  be 
delighted,  after  a week  or  so,  to  let  tom  have  his  own  way.^^ 
But  it  has  become  the  general  custom,  except  for  those  who 
keep  kings  for  breeding  purposes,  to  alter  these  toms,  so  that 
they  grow  into  large,  affectionate,  and  lazy  animals,  who  sleep 
a good  deal,  eat  a good  deal,  and  are  generally  picturesque  but 
not  very  active.  These  altered  toms  are  generally  the  favour- 
ites as  pets.  Personally  I am  more  interested  in  cats  who 
retain  their  natural  fervour. 

The  females  fight  occasionally,  especially  in  the  protection 
of  their  young,  and  when  they  are  calling  (so  their  period  of 
heat  is  poetically  and  literally  described,  for  it  is  marked  by 
little  amorous  coos,  almost  like  the  tender  sighs  of  an 
eighteenth  century  lover) , with  an  effrontery  born  of  desire, 
they  bite  the  males  in  the  throat,  usually  with  satisfactory  re- 

In  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  the  custom  to  attach  cats  outside  the  windows  of 
remarried  widows  in  reference  to  the  lubricity  of  the  animal.  The  cat  is  op- 
posed to  marriage.  She  will  accept  one  lover,  two  lovers,  three  lovers,  as  many 
slaves  as  possible,  but  never  a tyrant. 

The  vocabulary  of  the  professional  cat-breeder  is  generally  poetic.  When 
a female  cat  is  sent  to  a male  the  event  is  called  a “ visit  ” and  the  male’s  act 
is  called  “ signing.” 


33 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

suits.  The  males  are  formidable  fighters  both  with  their  own 
species  and  with  other  animals.  They  do  not  usually  fight 
dogs  unless  they  are  driven  into  corners  but  cats  have  been 
known  to  gratuitously  attack  dogs.  Their  sharp  claws  and 
their  supple  joints,  kept  constantly  in  condition  by  applying 
the  claws  to  a tree  or  a chair  or  a table  or  a rug  and  pulling 
and  stretching,  are  very  effective  in  warfare,  an  effectiveness 
that  is  increased  by  powerful  jaws  and  sharp  teeth.  It  is  the 
habit  of  the  cat  when  fighting  to  lie  on  his  back,  if  possible, 
thus  bringing  all  his  best  talents  into  full  play  and  protecting 
his  spine,  his  most  vulnerable  spot.  When  a cat  attacks  a 
dog  he  usually  jumps  on  the  dog’s  back  and  is  able  to  cling  and 
at  the  same  time  tear  at  the  beast’s  head  and  eyes.  Nature, 
ironic,  as  usual,  allows  the  eagle  this  procedure  with  the  cat. 
Cats  frequently  emerge  unscathed  from  the  most  bloody 
frays,  save  for  a torn  ear  or  a scarred  tail,  for  the  skin  of  the 
feline  is  so  loose  that  it  can  be  pulled  almost  half  way  around 
the  body  without  tearing  and  the  lateral  movements  of  the 
head,  while  not  as  extensive  as  those  of  the  owl,  are  neverthe- 
less considerable. 

When  the  cat  is  fighting  or  in  danger,  he  usually  emits  the 
most  blood-curdling  yowls;  why,  is  a mystery,  for  these  are 
not  calls  for  assistance  as  the  animal  fighting  in  the  wild  state 
is  usually  alone  and  in  no  case  can  he  depend  on  receiving  help 
from  others  of  his  kind.  These  yowls  may  very  well  be  battle 
cries,  like  the  fife  and  drum  corps  of  the  army,  to  keep  up  the 
morale!  When  a cat  is  beaten  or  mistreated,  however,  he 
never  cries,  although  he  may  growl  or  spit. 

“ Cats  dread  death  terribly,”  writes  Andrew  Lang.  “ I 
had  a nefarious  old  cat.  Gyp,  who  used  to  open  the  cupboard 
door  and  eat  any  biscuits  accessible.  Gyp  had  a stroke  of 
paralysis,  and  believed  he  was  going  to  die.  He  was  in  a 
fright:  Mr.  Horace  Hutchinson  observed  him  and  said  that 

this  cat  justly  entertained  the  most  Calvinistic  apprehensions 
of  his  future  reward.  Gyp  was  nursed  back  into  health,  as 

34 


Treating  of  Traits 

was  proved  when  we  found  him  on  the  roof  of  an  outhouse 
with  a cold  chicken  in  his  possession.  Nothing  could  be  more 
human.” 

The  cat  has  been  called  a thief.  To  be  sure,  he  has  no  re- 
spect whatever  for  other  people’s  property,  although  he  can 
be  taught  to  keep  off  a dinner-table  while  he  is  being  watched. 
It  is  easier  to  teach  a cat  not  to  do  things  than  to  do  them. 
When  he  is  left  alone,  however,  it  is  best  to  lock  up  the  fish  and 
the  cream.  There  are  proverbs  to  this  effect  and  they  have 
the  ring  of  truth.  Ariel  used  to  hide  spools,  keys,  pens,  pen- 
cils, and  scissors  under  rugs.  She  saw  no  more  reason  why  she 
should  not  make  such  booty  her  own  than  the  early  settlers  of 
America  saw  any  reason  why  they  should  not  convert  aborigi- 
nal property  to  their  uses.  These  early  settlers  looked  upon 
the  Indians  as  inferiors  who  had  no  rights,  and  the  cat  looks 
upon  man  in  the  same  way. 

But  Walt  Whitman  was  wrong  when  he  said  of  the  animals, 
“ not  one  is  demented  with  the  mania  of  owning  things.”  As 
far  as  their  own  property  is  concerned  cats  have  a very  definite 
sense  of  property  rights,  rights,  however,  which  they  protect 
themselves;  they  never  call  in  the  police  or  the  militia. 
Evidence  of  this  trait  is  very  easy  to  collect.  All  cats 
understand  it  thoroughly,  so  thoroughly,  indeed,  that  only  a 
very  hungry  or  a very  daring  cat  will  attempt  to  slink  through 
an  open  door  into  the  home  of  another  cat.  In  case  he  does 
so  he  proceeds  warily  and  if  he  goes  very  far  there  is  usually 
a scrimmage.  A scene  of  this  kind  is  frequently  very  comic. 
The  master  of  the  hearth  crouches  very  low  watching  every 
move  of  the  intruder  while  his  hair  begins  to  bristle.  The 
stranger  enters  obliquely  and  appears  to  be  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  the  cat  who  belongs  in  the  house.  Usually  a few 
warning  spits  and  passes  of  the  paw  from  the  insulted  house- 
holder terrify  the  interloper  into  taking  his  departure.  Oc- 
casionally, however,  cats  with  charitable  instincts  bring  In 
stray  animals  to  share  their  food.  I have  already  mentioned 

35 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Gautier’s  Enjolras.  I have  been  told  of  a tramp  cat,  fed  once 
at  a farm-house,  who  returned  the  next  day  with  twenty-nine 
of  his  friends  1 But  such  interest  in  outsiders  is  rare  in  felines; 
they  have  been  accustomed  to  rule  over  their  solitary  hunting 
ground  in  the  wild  state  and  the  instinct  survives. 

Persian  cats  share  it.  Not  long  ago  I brought  home  a little 
orange  kitten  as  gentle  and  sweet  as  possible,  a little  model  of 
quaint  dignity  and  grace.  The  annoyance  and  anger  of  my 
Feathers,  the  established  queen  of  the  household,  showed  itself 
immediately  with  sundry  growls  and  spits.  A dog  will  almost 
always  exhibit  signs  of  jealousy  in  the  presence  of  a newcomer, 
but  this  emotion  was  downright  rage.  Rage  that  any  one 
should  dare  attempt  to  usurp  a part  of  her  life,  share  her  food, 
sit  on  her  cushions,  slink  into  her  places  in  the  sun.  So,  with 
that  persistent  patience  which  is  as  effective  as  inquisitional 
methods.  Feathers  set  about  converting  me  to  the  idea  that 
the  thing  was  impossible.  For  three  days  she  made  the 
kitten’s  life  a grievous  burden.  Did  the  kitten  try  to  sleep. 
Feathers  bit  his  tail;  was  he  awake.  Feathers  would  stare  at 
him  disconcertingly,  then  with  a bound  over  his  back  light  on 
the  other  side,  a terrifying  procedure  punctuated  with  a growl 
and  a spit,  calculated  to  send  chills  down  stouter  spines.  She 
followed  the  kitten  from  room  to  room,  never  permitting  him 
peace  or  quiet  or  any  assurance  of  a foothold  in  the  apartment. 
More  than  this.  Feathers  altered  completely  in  her  relations 
with  me.  Ordinarily  a gentle  cat,  during  the  kitten’s  brief 
sojourn  she  never  permitted  me  to  pick  her  up  or  to  become 
familiar  with  her  in  any  way.  She  bit,  she  scratched,  she 
arched  her  back,  and  she  bristled  her  hairs.  Indeed  I never 
went  near  her  during  those  three  days  without  being  spit  at. 
Hectic  home  life  is  something  I do  not  crave;  I bowed  to  the 
inevitable  and  bore  the  orange  kitten  away.  Immediately 
Feathers  became  all  smiles  and  caresses,  a changed  and  de- 
lighted being.^® 

i®Cats  often  consider  certain  chairs  as  their  property  and  they  will  allow 

36 


i 


MRS.  CTTANNTNG  POLLOCK’S  OSIRIS  RESENTS  AN  INVASION 
From  a photograt>h  by  Paul  Thompson 


\ 


V- 


Treating  of  Traits 

This  quality  in  cats,  this  incessant  potentiality  of  a return 
to  feral  conditions,  is  very  puzzling  to  those  who  have  no  feel- 
ing for  or  understanding  of  these  animals.  It  is  usually  called 
“ bad  temper  ” and  out  of  it  has  grown  the  legend  that  “ you 
cannot  trust  cats.”  As  a matter  of  fact  no  animal  is  so  sure 
to  react  in  certain  ways  to  certain  phenomena  as  the  cat.^^  He 
is  fond  of  his  home  and  its  surroundings,  regards  them  with 
pride  and  delight.  How  would  you,  reader,  care  to  have  a 
stronger  (of  either  sex)  suddenly  foisted  on  you  to  share  your 
bed  and  board?  Do  you  think  it  unreasonable  for  a cat  to 
protest  against  so  great  an  attack  on  personal  liberty?  You 
would  not  like  it;  neither  does  the  cat.  But  the  cat  being  more 
independent,  more  assertive,  more  liberty  loving,  than  that 
sneaking  cowardly  animal  called  man,  refuses  absolutely  to  tol- 
erate encroachments  on  his  individuality.  A man  quite  conceiv- 
ably would  put  up  with  the  inconvenience;  in  fact,  often  does. 

This  dual  personality,  with  its  lights  and  shades,  is  in  a 
great  measure  an  explanation  of  the  great  power  of  fascination 
the  cat  possesses.  There  is  always  the  possibility  of  a rever- 
sion to  the  wild  state.  The  sight  of  a fly  or  a cockroach,  a rat 
or  a mouse,  another  cat  or  dog,  will  make  a wild  beast  out  of 
a tame  animal  in  a quarter  of  a second.  Moreover,  if  Fate 
and  Nature  so  rule,  it  is  entirely  possible  for  the  cat  to  live 
either  existence  for  extended  periods  of  time.  And  it  must 
always  be  remembered  that  a cat’s  relations  with  man,  whom 
he  usually  regards  with  a certain  amused  contempt,  are  on  an 
entirely  different  plane  from  his  relations  with  cats  or  any 
other  animals. 

neither  dogs  nor  human  beings  to  occupy  them.  I have  observed  a cat,  in  a 
household  which  he  ruled,  make  the  round  of  the  drawing-room,  driving  each 
occupant  out  of  his  chair.  His  method  was  a simple  one.  He  weighed  twelve 
pounds  and  he  insinuated  himself  between  the  person  seated  and  the  back  of  the 
chair. 

A well-treated  cat  will  never  scratch  a friend,  except  accidentally  in  play, 
or  under  the  nervous  strain  of  a supreme  insult,  and  a friend  will  never  insult 
a cat. 


37 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

The  cat’s  love  for  places  has  been  exaggerated  by  unintelli- 
gent persons,  who  are  constantly  making  remarks  about  an 
animal  that  even  the  most  intelligent  of  us  does  not  begin  to 
understand.  This  love  of  home  is  regarded  as  a highly  moral 
and  generally  satisfactory  trait  in  man,  especially  when  it  takes 
the  general  form  of  patriotism.  But  somehow  it  is  entirely 
different  for  a cat  to  love  his  home;  once  he  does  so  he  is  re- 
garded with  horror  by  tbe  populace.  The  question,  like  that 
of  the  relative  merits  of  cats  and  dogs,  has  become  an  inter- 
national one  and  is  invariably  introduced  as  a subtopic  in  any 
lay  conversation  about  cats.  “ But  the  home,”  Madame 
Michelet  points  out,  “ is  often  an  assemblage  of  objects  which 
belong  to  your  habits,  which  are  even  you,  yourself.  , . . The 
cat  is  essentially  conservative  in  his  habits.  However  it  is 
less  to  the  walls  of  the  house  that  he  clings  than  to  a certain 
arrangement  of  objects,  of  furniture,  which  bear  more  than 
the  house  itself  the  trace  of  personality.  So  our  actual  life, 
our  facility  of  locomotion,  the  varied  circumstances  and  the 
inconstant  tastes  which  render  us  today  so  fluid,  are  highly 
antipathetic  to  the  cat.”  A poet  in  “ The  Spectator  ” has  it: 

You  Jiold  your  race  traditions  fast, 

While  others  toil,  you  simply  live. 

And  based  upon  a stable  past. 

Remain  a sound  conservative. 

The  cat  thinks  what  has  been  will  be.  As  he  waits  for  his 
prey  he  waits  for  his  master.  He  learns  all  the  ways  of  escape 
from  danger  in  his  house,  finds  his  favourite  chair  to  sleep  in, 
his  familiar  nook  to  lurk  in;  he  does  not  relinquish  these 
sureties  without  a certain  objection.  Indeed  in  a case  where  a 
cat  has  not  formed  an  attachment  for  any  member  of  the 
family  it  seems  absurd  to  ask  him  to  give  up  these  advantages. 
The  cat  becomes  attached  to  his  master  when  that  one  caresses 
him,  feeds  him,  and  loves  him.  But  when  he  is  largely  ig- 


“ Les  Chats,”  p.  79. 


38 


Treating  of  Traits 

nored  he  becomes  more  attached  to  the  house  itself  than  he 
does  to  its  inmates.  . . . Above  all  else  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  cat  loves  order. 

In  “ A Story  Teller’s  Holiday,”  George  Moore  tells  how, 
wandering  about  the  ruins  of  Dublin  after  the  Irish  rebellion, 
he  discovered  a broken  wall  to  which  a mantelpiece  still  clung. 
” A plaintive  miaw  reached  me,  and  a beautiful  black  Persian 
cat  appeared  by  the  fireplace.  A cat  is  almost  articulate,  and 
Tom  asked  me  to  explain  the  meaning  of  all  this  ruin.  He  has 
found  his  old  fireplace,  I said,  and  tried  to  entice  him;  but, 
though  pleased  to  see  me,  he  would  not  be  persuaded  to  leave 
v/hat  remained  of  the  hearth  on  which  he  had  spent  so  many 
pleasant  hours,  and  pondering  on  his  faithfulness  and  his 
beauty  I continued  my  search  among  the  ruins,  meeting  cats 
everywhere,  all  seeking  their  lost  homes  among  the  ashes  and 
all  unable  to  comprehend  the  misfortune  that  had  befallen 
them.  It  is  true  that  the  cats  suffer  vaguely,  but  suffering  is 
not  less  because  it  is  vague,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  in  the 
early  ages  of  the  world,  shall  we  say  twenty  thousand  years 
before  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  men  groped  and  suffered 
blindly  amid  incomprehensible  earthquakes  seeking  their  lost 
homes,  just  like  the  cats  in  Henry  Street.  We  are  part  and 
parcel  of  the  same  original  substance,  I said,  and  then  my 
thoughts  breaking  off  suddenly,  I began  to  rejoice  in  Nature’s 
unexpectedness  and  fecundity.  She  is  never  commonplace  in 
her  stories,  we  have  only  to  go  to  her  to  be  original,  I mut- 
tered, as  I returned  through  the  silent  streets.  I could  have 
imagined  everything  else,  the  wall-paper,  the  overmantel,  and 
the  French  clock,  but  not  the  cats  seeking  for  their  lost  hearths, 
nor  is  it  likely  that  Turgenieff  could,  Balzac  still  less.” 

But  some  cats  have  no  aversion  to  moving.  Some  cats,  in- 
deed, move  of  their  own  accord  as  did  Guy  Wetmore  Carryl’s 
capricious  Zut,  described  further  along  in  this  volume.  An- 
drew Lang  felt  that  there  was  a mystic  free-masonry,  a sort  of 
Rosicrucian  brotherhood  among  cats,  so  strange  are  their  move" 

B9 


The  Tiger^  in  the  House 

merits,  so  inexplicable.  It  is  possible  that  boredom  is  some- 
times a motive  for  a peregrination.  “ Monotony,”  writes 
Lindsay,^®  “ as  a factor  of  mental  derangement  in  the  lower 
animals,  is  closely  associated  with,  and  usually  inseparable 
from,  solitude  and  captivity.  Other  animals  dislike  monot- 
onous lives  and  occupations  as  much  as  man  does;  they  suffer 
as  much  as  he  from  want  of  novelty  and  variety;  they  have  the 
same  desire  for  amusement;  there  is  equal  necessity  in  the  case 
of  many  of  them  for  relaxation  on  the  one  hand  and  pleasant 
excitement  on  the  other.  Sameness  has  a similar  depressing 
influence  on  them  as  on  man,  whether  this  sameness  be  of  scene, 
surroundings,  air,  or  food.”  Persian  cats,  doomed  usually  to 
pass  their  lives  in  city  apartments,  go,  of  course,  from  one  to 
the  other  without  apparent  discomfort  or  unhappiness.  Occa- 
sionally a cat  with  a grand  passion  for  a man  will  hunt  him 
out.  Pennant  records  that  when  the  Earl  of  Southampton, 
the  friend  and  companion  of  the  Earl  of  Sussex  in  his  fatal 
insurrection,  was  confined  to  the  Tower  of  London,  he  was 
surprised  by  a visit  from  his  favourite  cat,  who,  it  is  said, 
obtained  access  to  the  Earl  by  descending  the  chimney  of  his 
apartment. 

‘‘  Animals  are  such  friends;  they  ask  no  questions,  they  pass 
no  criticisms,”  wrote  the  unenlightened  George  Eliot  some- 
where or  other.  This  is  certainly  not  true  of  cats.  An  ordi- 
nary kitten  will  ask  more  questions  than  any  five  year  old  boy. 
He  is  the  most  catechismal  of  animals,  with  the  possible  excep- 
tion of  the  monkey.  Curiosity,  indeed,  is  a predominant  cat 
trait  and  a cat’s  first  duty  on  entering  a new  domain  is  to  ex- 
plore every  square  inch  of  it.  He  not  only  examines  every 
corner  of  the  house  he  lives  in  but  investigates  the  country  for 
miles  around.  Lane  thinks  this  is  the  reason  he  can  find 
his  way  back  home  when  he  has  been  carried  away.  Once 
this  initiative  ceremony  is  completed,  the  cat,  in  most  in- 

“ Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals”;  Vol.  II,  p.  247. 

-®  C.  H.  Lane:  “Rabbits,  Cats  and  Cavies.” 

40 


Treating  of  Traits 

stances,  expresses  his  satisfaction  by  turning  round  and  round 
and  finally  settling  down  to  sleep.  There  is  a superstition  to 
the  effect  that  if  you  butter  or  grease  a cat’s  feet  after  taking 
him  to  a new  home  he  will  not  run  away,  and  Ernest  Thomp- 
son Seton  has  introduced  a reference  to  it  in  his  story,  “ The 
Slum  Cat.”  The  basis  of  the  superstition  is  the  fact  that 
a cat  will  wash  himself  directly  you  put  grease  on  his  paws 
and  that  almost  always  after  washing,  a cat  will  fall  asleep  and 
that  if  you  can  get  a cat  to  sleep  in  a place  it  is  pretty  safe  to 
say  that  he  will  be  satisfied  to  remain  there.  Curiosity,  of 
course,  is  an  instinct  taken  over  from  the  wild  state,  in  which 
exploration  was  dangerous  but  necessary  and  it  has  been  in- 
geniously explained  that  a cat  circles  round  and  round  before 
lying  down  because  he  dimly  remembers  that  he  is  treading  a 
lair  out  of  the  tall  grass.  Curiosity  in  a cat,  however,  goes 
further  than  mere  protective  instinct.  No  box,  no  package,  no 
paper  bag  ever  enters  my  door  that  Feathers  does  not  examine 
it,  and  this  is  no  rare  quality  but  one  which  is  generally  dis- 
tributed. Any  new  box,  any  open  drawer  serves  as  a new 
place  to  nap  in.  Cats,  however,  can  seldom  be  induced  to 
eat  from  the  hand,  and  then  only  with  great  reluctance,  hesi- 
tation, and  delicacy,  so  exactly  are  curiosity  and  caution  bal- 
anced in  the  feline  mind.  They  also  sniff  at  objects,  but  one 
smell  is  enough.  They  do  not  return  for  reassurance. 
There  are  those  who  assert  that  the  sense  of  smell  in  a cat  is 
not  highly  developed.*^  I think  myself  that  it  is  largely  super- 

21  “ Animal  Heroes.” 

22  But  cats  are  frequently  intoxicated  by  the  odour  of  valerian  and  they  adore 

the  fragrance  of  flowers.  Sometimes  even  they  express  delight  over  the  artifices 
of  Houbigant,  Coty,  and  Bichara.  In  this  they  differ  from  dogs,  as  W.  H.  Hud- 
son has  pointed  out  (“The  Great  Dog-Superstition”  in  “The  Book  of  a Natu- 
ralist”): “The  pampered  lap-dog  in  the  midst  of  his  comforts  has  one  great 

thorn  in  his  side,  one  perpetual  misery  to  endure,  in  the  perfumes  which  please 
his  mistress.  He  too  is  a little  Venetian  in  his  way,  but  his  way  is  not  hers. 
The  camphor-wood  chest  in  her  room  is  an  offence  to  him,  the  case  of  glass- 
stoppered  scents  an  abomination.  All  fragrant  flowers  are  as  asafoetida  to  his 
exquisite  nostrils  and  his  face  is  turned  aside  in  very  ill-concealed  disgust  from 

41 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

seded  by  a highly  charged  electrical  nervous  system  and  by  the 
senses  of  sight,  hearing,  and  touch.^^  Madame  Michelet 
decided  that  the  sense  of  smell  In  a kitten  was  more  highly  de- 
veloped than  In  the  grown  cat.  She  was  able  to  awaken  kittens 
by  putting  milk  under  their  noses.  The  same  experiment  with 
older  cats  did  not  prove  successful. 

It  has  long  been  a favourite  contention  of  mine  that  nothing 
Is  more  ephemeral  than  science;  no  books  are  sooner  ready  for 
the  garret  or  the  waste-basket  than  serious  books.  When  a 
serious  book  has  an  artistic  value,  such  as  a book  by  Nietzsche, 
for  instance,  the  case  is  altered,  but  the  ordinary  professor’s 
or  scientist’s  profound  discoveries  are  absolutely  worthless 
In  a few  years.  They  serve.  Indeed,  only  to  Indicate  the 
quaint  fluctuations,  the  ebb  and  flow,  of  human  thought.  The 
first  to  admit  this  Is  the  scientist  himself,  who  tells  you  that 
you  must  work  only  along  the  lines  of  the  “ latest  discoveries.” 
Now  these  latest  discoveries  are  usually  ideas  that  have  been 
filched  from  some  philosopher,  black  magician,  or  monk  who 
lived  In  the  neolithic  age.  The  mediaeval  grlmoires  are 
probably  unworked  gold  mines  of  “ new  thought.”  Freud  Is 
foreshadowed  in  eighteenth  century  philosophy;  even  Chris- 
tian Science  Is  not  new.  You  can  find  the  germ  of  almost 
every  science  or  philosophy  In  Aristotle,  Paracelsus,  or  Mes- 
mer.  Alchemists  were  familiar  with  laws  which  scientists  have 
recently  rediscovered.  Arlsteus,  the  philosophical  alchemist.  Is 
said  to  have  delivered  to  his  disciples  what  he  termed  the 
golden  key  of  the  Great  Work,  which  had  the  power  of  render- 
ing all  metals  diaphanous.  Yet  I have  never  heard  Arlsteus 

the  sandal-wood  box  or  fan.  It  is  warm  and  soft  on  her  lap,  but  an  incurable 
grief  to  be  so  near  her  pocket-handkerchief,  saturated  with  nasty  white-rose  or 
lavender.  If  she  must  perfume  herself  with  flowery  essences  he  would  prefer  an 
essential  oil  expressed  from  the  gorgeous  Rafflesia  Arnoldi  of  the  Bornean  forest, 
or  even  from  the  humble  carrion-flower  which  blossoms  nearer  home.” 

2®  Cats  have  an  especial  fondness  for  certain  textures.  They  like  paper  or 
something  rough  that  tears  with  a noise. 

“ Les  Chats,”  p.  202. 


42 


CHAMPION  KING  WINTER 


Treating  of  Traits 

described  as  the  Inventor  of  the  X Ray.  There  are  few  today 
who  would  attempt  to  duplicate  the  engineering  feats  of  the 
Egyptians. 

Men  who  devote  their  lives  to  science  usually  have  no  sense 
of  humour.  They  are  often  asses.  A.  G.  Mayer,  according 
to  John  Burroughs,  has  proved  conclusively  that  the  promethea 
moth  has  no  colour  sense.  The  male  of  this  moth  has  blackish 
wings  and  the  female  reddish  brown.  Mayer  caused  the  two 
sexes  to  change  colours ; he  glued  the  wings  of  the  male  to  the 
female  and  vice  versa  and  found  that  they  mated  just  the 
same ! Well,  Professor  Mayer  could  have  arrived  at  the 
same  brilliant  conclusion  If  he  had  painted  a yellow  tom  cat 
black  and  a cream  queen  green.  There  Is  a certain  little 
reason  by  which  a female  can  distinguish  a male  but  no  scien- 
tist would  ever  think  of  that.  Serious  scientific  works,  there- 
fore, may  be  regarded  as  generally  negligible.  In  the  first  place 
because  It  Is  Impossible  to  approximate  truth  by  rushing  blindly 
In  one  direction,  closing  out  all  distracting  sights  and  sounds, 
no  matter  how  strongly  they  bear  on  the  subject.  In  the  second 
place  because  there  Is  no  such  thing  as  truth.  Any  mystic 
philosopher  can  feel  more  than  a scientist  can  ever  learn. 

There  have  been  sects  of  somatlsts  who  do  not  believe  that 
the  cat  Is  endowed  with  a soul.  But  this  discussion  has  gone 
out  of  fashion  because  man  Is  no  longer  very  much  Interested 
In  the  soul.  It  Is  now  the  part  of  smart  scientific  conversation 
to  talk  more  about  tbe  brain.  During  the  nineteenth  century 
many  scientists,  psychologists,  natural  historians,  zoologists, 
and  the  like,  have  devoted  their  entire  time  to  the  consideration 
of  the  problem  as  to  whether  or  no  animals  think.  Darwin, 
of  course,  for  the  sake  of  his  evolutionary  theory,  warmly 
espoused  the  cause  of  thinking  brutes,  and  Romanes  and  others 
have  followed  him  In  this  direction.  Other  men  of  more  or 
less  Importance  have  disagreed  and  talk  about  “ Instinct,”  etc. 
A whole  literature  of  neglected  and  contradictory  books  has 
grown  up  on  the  subject  and  I Imagine  anything  written  before 

43 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  hour  of  midnight  of  the  morning  on  which  you  are  reading 
these  pages  would  be  considered  entirely  worthless  in  any  self- 
respecting  professor’s  class-room.  “ II  n’y  a pas  un  de  ces 
livres  qui  n* en  demente  un  autre,”  remarks  the  supremely 
sagacious  Sylvestre  Bonnard,  “ en  sorte  que,  quand  on  les 
connatt  tous,  on  ne  sait  que  penser”  Elsewhere  I have  given 
a short  bibliography  of  the  subject  and  you  may  take  a melan- 
choly pleasure  in  perusing  some  of  the  arguments  pro  and  con. 

The  worthy  John  Burroughs^®  informs  us  that  when  he 
hears  an  animal  laugh  he  will  believe  in  his  reason.  Man,  he 
says,  can  be  reached  through  his  mind,  an  animal  only  through 
his  senses.  The  whole  secret  of  the  training  of  wild  ani- 
mals is  to  form  new  habits  in  them.  Any  army  captain  will 
inform  Mr.  Burroughs  that  this  is  the  whole  secret  of  training 
men.  There  are  others  who  will  contradict  Mr.  Burroughs. 
“ There  is  really  nothing  so  primitive,  even  so  animal  as 
reason,”  writes  Havelock  Ellis.^'^  “ It  may  plausibly,  how- 
ever unsoundly,  be  maintained  that  it  is  by  his  emotions,  not 
by  his  reason,  that  man  differs  most  from  the  beasts.  ‘ My  cat,’ 
says  Unamuno,  who  takes  this  view  in  his  new  book,  ‘ Del  senti- 
miento  tragico  de  la  vida,’  ‘ never  laughs  or  cries;  he  is  always 
reasoning.’  ” 

Mr.  Burroughs  also  decided  that  animals  cannot  think  be- 
cause they  have  no  language  and  that  you  cannot  think  with- 
out language.  But  have  they  not?  The  vocal  language  of 
cats  is  extraordinarily  complete  as  I shall  show  in  a later 
chapter.  This  is  complemented  by  a gesture  language  which 
can,  of  course,  only  be  completely  understood  by  other  cats. 
There  is,  for  instance,  the  language  of  the  tail.  The  cat  with 
a tail  raised  high  like  a banner  is  a satisfied,  contented,  healthy, 
and  proud  cat.  A tail  carried  horizontally  indicates  stealth 
or  terror.  A tail  curled  under  the  body  is  a signal  of  fear. 

25  “ The  Animal  Mind”;  “The  Atlantic  Monthly”;  November  1910;  Vol.  106, 
p.  622. 

26  “ Impressions  and  Comments,”  p.  233. 

44 


Treating  of  Traits 

The  cat  waves  his  tail  from  side  to  side  when  he  is  dissatisfied, 
annoyed,  or  angry;  in  rage  he  extends  it  with  the  fur  distended. 
He  lashes  it  as  a preparation  for  battle  and  he  twitches  it 
when  he  is  amused  or  pleased.  And  cats  sometimes  use  their 
tails,  as  women  use  boas  or  muffs,  as  a means  of  keeping  warm. 

The  variety  of  ways  in  which  a cat  uses  his  paw  is  even 
greater.  Lindsay  gives  us  a catalogue : “ The  cat  not  in- 
frequently uses  its  paw  to  touch  or  tap  its  master’s  shoulder 
when  it  desires  to  attract  his  notice  (‘Animal  World’).  A 
pet  cat  sitting  at  a carriage  window,  when  anything  passing 
takes  her  fancy,  ‘ puts  her  paw  on  my  chest,’  says  her  mistress, 
‘ and  makes  a pretty  little  noise,  as  though  asking  me  if  I had 
seen  it  also.’  Another  laid  her  paw  on  the  lips  of  a lady  who 
had  a distressing  cough  every  time  she  coughed,  in  evidence 
possibly  of  pity,  possibly  in  order  to  the  physical  suppression  of 
the  cough  by  the  closure  of  the  aperture  by  which  alone  it 
could  find  vent  (Wood).^*  A third  cat  touched  with  her  paw 
the  lips  of  those  who  whistled  a tune,  ‘ as  if  pleased  with  the 
sound’  (Wood).  Cats  ‘cuff’  each  other  or  their  young  — 
that  is,  they  give  blows,  and  so  punish  or  administer  rebuke 
to  some  unruly  or  troublesome  kitten  — with  their  paws. 
They  also  warm  their  paws  before  a fire  and  use  them  for 
shading  the  face  either  from  the  fire  or  the  sun  (‘Animal 
World  ’) . We  are  told  of  a cat  frequently  patting  the  nose  of 
a companion  horse.  It  is  well  known  that  our  domestic  cats 
are  in  the  habit  of  washing  their  faces  by  means  of  their  paws, 
by  which  means  also  they  brush  and  clean  their  foreheads  and 
eyes.  The  cat  uses  its  forepaw  too  in  touching  or  testing 
objects  — to  ascertain,  for  instance,  their  hardness  or  other 
qualities  (‘  Percy  Anecdotes  ’),  or  to  measure  the  quantity  or 
discover  the  level  of  the  fluids  certain  vessels  may  contain. 
Thus  a cat,  ‘ when  wishing  to  drink  water  from  a jug,’  used 
its  paw  to  ‘ ascertain  if  it  was  full  enough  ’ ( ‘ Animal  World  ’ ) . 

“ Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals,”  Vol.  i,  p.  416. 

28  “ Man  and  Beast:  Here  and  Hereafter,”  p.  370. 

45 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

It  takes  milk  from  a narrow  milk-pot  by  inserting  its  paw,  curl- 
ing it  for  removal  when  saturated  with  milk,  and  then  licking 
it  (Wood).  In  a Birmingham  burglary  case,  heard  at  the 
Warwick  Assizes  in  March  1 877,  ‘ the  prosecutor  deposed  that 
he  was  awakened  by  his  cat  patting  his  face,  puss  having  dis- 
covered the  burglars  rummaging  his  bedroom.’  (‘  Inverness 
Courier,’  March  29,  1877).”  It  might  be  added  that  the  cat 
frequently  scratches  to  attract  attention.  It  would  also  be 
possible  to  enumerate  countless  ways  in  which  the  cat  uses  his 
head,  his  eyes,  and  even  his  fur  for  purposes  of  conversation. 

Professor  Edward  L.  Thorndike  undertook  to  make  some 
exceedingly  Ingenious  and  involved  experiments  with  cats  and 
other  animals  and  he  has  written  a book  about  them.  His 
experiments  with  cats  were  made  with  “ puzzle  boxes.”  Cats 
which  had  been  starved  for  a considerable  period  were  shut  in 
boxes  over  which  food  was  placed.  Now  there  were  numerous 
more  or  less  complicated  ways  of  opening  these  boxes  from 
within.  The  problem  was  to  see  how  long  it  would  take  a 
cat  to  open  his  box  and  reach  the  food.  From  the  results  the 
professor  drew  his  absolutely  valueless  conclusions.  If  the 
cats  did  not  find  the  doctor’s  boxes  adapertile  this  is  no  start- 
ing point  on  which  to  found  a system  of  animal  psychology. 
The  experiment  seems  to  me  entirely  analogous  to  that  of  put- 
ting a hungry  and  terrified  Cherokee  Indian  into  a Rolls-Royce 
and  asking  him,  in  a strange  language,  to  run  it  if  he  wants 
his  dinner. 

One  of  the  favourite  arguments  of  the  instinct-pushers 
educes  the  fact  that  cats,  accustomed  to  bury  dung  in  the  wild 
state,  will  go  through  the  motions  of  digging  up  earth  on  a 
marble  or  wooden  floor,  an  instinctive  memory  of  an  act  no 
longer  necessary,  and  therefore  unworthy  of  a being  who 
thinks.  Now  this  sort  of  thing  can  be  knocked  over  by  an 
idiot  baby  with  one  blue  eye  and  one  black  one.  Why,  for 
instance,  do  you  still  shake  hands?  All  reason  for  doing  so, 
29  “ Animal  Intelligence:  Experimental  Studies.” 

46 


Treating  of  Traits 

the  assurance  that  your  friend  and  you  carry  no  weapons,  has 
passed  away,  and  yet  the  stupid  instinct  survives.  With  the 
cat  there  is  cause  for  the  survival.  Nature  is  well  aware  that 
he  may  be  forced  through  circumstances  or  desire  to  again 
lead  the  wild  life;  when  this  happens  he  is  prepared  to  conceal 
all  evidence  of  his  whereabouts  from  his  enemies. 

Other  scientists  in  claiming  inferiority  for  the  beasts,  bring 
forward  as  an  argument  that  they  always  do  the  same  things, 
make  the  same  movements,  that  they  neither  invent  nor  pro- 
gress. The  bee  constructs  the  same  receptacle  for  honey, 
the  spider  weaves  the  same  web,  and  the  barn  swallow  builds 
the  same  nest.  All  individual  liberty  and  spontaneity  seem 
to  have  been  refused  them.  They  appear  to  obey  mechanical 
rhythms  which  are  transmitted  through  the  centuries.  But 
who  can  say  that  these  rhythms  are  not  superior  moral  laws 
and  if  the  beasts  do  not  progress  it  is  because  they  sprang 
perfect  into  the  world  and  do  not  need  to,  while  man  gropes, 
searches,  changes,  destroys,  and  reconstructs  without  being 
able  to  find  anything  stable  in  intelligence,  any  end  to  his  desire, 
any  harmony  to  his  form?  It  is  well  to  remember,  O Chris- 
tian reader,  that  it  was  man  that  God  ejected  from  Paradise 
and  not  the  animals.  Besides  it  is  preposterous  and  stupid 
to  contend  that  animals  have  not  freedom  of  thought,  that 
they  do  not  think,  that  they  cannot  solve  individual  problems. 

Personally  I am  convinced  that  all  these  scientists,  psycho- 
logists, etc.,  mean  more  or  less  the  same  thing;  they  are  strug- 
gling more  or  less  with  the  same  idea,  only  they  express  it  in 
dissimilar  terms.  One  means  instinct  when  he  says  intelligence 
and  the  other  means  intelligence  when  he  says  instinct.  A 
very  important  system  of  philosophy,  indeed,  is  based  on  the 
theory  that  animal  instinct  is  of  greater  utility  than  intelli- 
gence and  asks  man  to  trust  to  it  as  much  as  possible.  Women, 
I believe,  are  popularly  supposed  to  be  entirely  guided  by 
such  principles. 

To  my  mind  there  is  no  more  doubt  that  animals  think, 

47 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

after  their  fashion,  than  there  is  that  men  as  a rule  do  not 
think  at  all.  Scientists  make  the  mistake  of  observing  too 
closely  and  of  writing  down  what  they  think  they  have  seen. 
Such  matters  should  be  discussed  mystically  with  a certain 
aloofness.  “ I observe  authors  who  speak  concerning  cats 
with  a familiarity  most  distasteful,”  writes  Andrew  Lang. 

Animals  do  not  think  after  the  manner  of  man;  their  think- 
ing processes  are  quite  different.  There  is  a certain  amount  of 
truth  in  the  theory  that  they  think  in  abstractions,  cold,  heat, 
etc.,  but  that  they  do  not  think  of  them  afterwards  as  ab- 
stractions as  human  beings  do.  But  I can  see  no  particular 
advantage  in  remembering  and  discussing  such  matters. 
Robert  Louis  Stevenson  once  observed  that  animals  never  used 
verbs:  ‘‘That  is  the  only  way  in  which  their  thinking  differs 
from  that  of  men.” 

However  one  point  and  one  point  only  concerns  us  greatly 
here,  that  is  the  relative  intelligence  of  the  cat,  who  by  many 
is  considered  inferior  mentally  to  the  dog  and  the  horse.  The 
intelligence  of  cats,  has,  I think,  been  greatly  underesti- 
mated.^*^ It  can  hardly  be  overestimated.  “ We  cannot  with- 
out becoming  cats,  perfectly  understand  the  cat  mind,”  writes 
St.  George  Mivart.^^  The  cat  as  an  individual  thinks  in  en- 
tirely different  directions  from  his  human  companions  and 
therefore  it  is  difficult  to  secure  the  right  kind  of  evidence, 
especially  as  most  of  the  professors  judge  an  animal’s  intelli- 
gence by  his  susceptibility  to  discipline,  in  other  words  by  his 
comparative  ability  to  become  the  willing  slave  of  man.  In 
this  kind  of  contest  the  dog  and  the  horse  naturally  carry  off 
all  the  honours.  Because  the  cat  refuses  to  bend  under  the 
yoke  and  accept  this  discipline  I do  not  think  he  can  be  proved 
an  unintelligent  animal;  quite  the  contrary.  The  cat  is  far  too 
intelligent  to  be  inveigled  into  any  drudgery  or  mummery. 

I hope  I have  impressed  the  reader  with  the  fact  that  all  cats  are  not  alike. 
I have  seen  cats  as  stupid  as  any  tax-payer. 

31  “ The  Cat,”  p.  366. 


48 


Treating  of  Traits 

V a,  le  secret  de  reussir, 

C^est  d’etre  adroit,  non  d’etre  utile, 

is  the  advice  of  the  lazy  old  cat  in  a fable  of  Florian.  He 
compels  his  human  friend  to  accept  him  on  his  own  terms.  A 
dog’s  acts  are  much  more  imitative  and  therefore  more  appli- 
cable to  human  reasoning.  But  T.  Wesley  Mills, who  stu- 
died both  animals,  writes,  “ The  cat  is  far  in  advance  of  the 
dog  in  power  to  execute  highly  complex  co-ordinated  move- 
ments.” And  again,  “ In  will-power  and  ability  to  maintain 
an  independent  existence  the  cat  is  superior  to  the  dog.” 

Some  acts  of  cats  are  entirely  consonant  with  human  intelli- 
gence. Cats  have  the  power  to  draw  inferences  from  observa- 
tion. They  easily  learn  to  open  doors;  many  of  them  learn  to 
ring  bells  for  admittance.  Frequently  they  answer  bells, 
knowing  that  they  mean  dinner  or  somebody’s  arrival. 
Feathers  not  only  goes  to  the  door  when  the  bell  rings  but 
also  when  she  hears  the  elevator  ascending.  She  even  runs 
to  the  telephone  when  it  rings.  These  and  other  such  ac- 
complishments as  retrieving  the  cat  is  not  easily  taught.  If, 
however,  she  finds  it  convenient  to  acquire  them  she  will  do  so. 
Artault  de  Vevey  had  a cat  who  was  fond  of  visiting  friends 
on  the  fifth  floor  (de  Vevey  lived  on  the  first).  She  would 
cry  for  admittance;  if  no  one  answered  her  she  would  scratch  at 
the  doorpanel;  as  a last  resort  she  would  pull  the  bell  rope. 

A writer  in  “ The  Spectator  ” observed  “ a large  male 
cat  who  in  turn  was  watching  sparrows  feeding  in  a court-yard. 
When  disturbed  by  the  opening  of  a back-door  the  sparrows 
always  flew  to  a beech-hedge  near.  The  cat  noted  this,  walked 
behind  the  hedge  and  waiting  opposite  the  spot  to  which  the 
birds  generally  flew,  jumped  into  the  middle  of  them  when 

“ The  Cat  and  the  Dog  Compared”;  McGill  University;  Papers  from  the 
Department  of  Physiology,  1896. 

This  was  the  same  Isoline  who  took  baths. 

^^“The  Cat  as  Wild  Animal”;  “The  Spectator,”  September  12,  1896. 


49 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

they  were  next  disturbed.  This  was  the  result  of  deliberation 
and  calculation.  Another  cat  which  was  watching  sparrows 
stepped  behind  a row  of  paving  stones  recently  taken  up  as 
soon  as  it  saw  the  writer  approaching  and  secured  one  driven 
over  its  head.  It  saw  the  probability  that  the  birds  would  be 
driven  in  its  direction  and  it  acted  on  its  conclusions  in  a 
second.”  Wynter  relates  an  incident  of  a tom  cat  of  Callen- 
dar  who  was  seen  bearing  away  a piece  of  beef  in  his  jaws. 
The  servant  who  followed  him  watched  him  lay  the  morsel 
down  near  a rat  hole.  Then  he  hid  himself.  Presently  the  rat 
came  out  and  was  dragging  away  the  meat  when  the  cat 
pounced  upon  him.  Emile  Achard’s  Matapon,®®  having  killed 
all  the  mice  in  the  house,  took  to  killing  field  mice.  This  was 
difficult  and  unpleasant  on  rainy  days  but  it  was  not  long  before 
he  conceived  the  idea,  and  carried  it  out,  of  restocking  the 
house.  He  brought  field  mice  in  alive  and  let  them  loose,  thus 
establishing  a new  hunting  preserve. 

Lindsay  quotes  the  following  example  from  the  “ Animal 
World”:  A certain  cat  and  dog  were  confederates  in  a 

larder  theft.  The  cat  by  its  mewing  called  the  dog  when  cir- 
cumstances were  favourable  to  their  depredations.  On  one 
occasion  when  the  dog  was  followed  the  cat  was  discovered 
mounted  on  a shelf,  keeping  the  cover  of  a dish  partly  open 
with  one  foot  and  throwing  down  good  things  to  the  dog  with 
the  other!  The  Reverend  J.  G.  Wood  describes  an  old  dis- 
abled tom  cat  who  made  a bargain  with  a younger  and  more 
active  animal  to  catch  mice  for  him,  the  apprentice  being  paid 
with  bones  and  cats’  meat.  The  compact  was  honourably  car- 
ried out  on  both  sides.  Once,  during  an  illness,  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons  fed  her  cat  the  richest  cream,  the  finest  parts  of  the 

85  “ Fruit  Between  the  Leaves.” 

36  “ 'Fhg  History  of  My  Friends,  or  Home  Life  with  Animals.” 

“ Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals”;  Vol.  I,  p.  391. 

38  “ Fruit  Between  the  Leaves.” 


50 


Treating  of  Traits 

chicken.  Thereafter  he  occasionally  shammed  lameness  in 
order  to  get  these  delicacies. 

Eugene  Muller,  in  “ Animaux  Celebres,”  furnishes  us  with 
another  admirable  example:  A professor,  who  wished  to  dem- 
onstrate to  his  pupils  the  uses  of  a pneumatic  machine,  intro- 
duced a cat  under  the  glass  bell.  The  animal,  of  course,  made 
frantic  efforts  to  escape,  but  the  glass  held  him  a prisoner.  “ I 
am  going  to  show  you,”  said  the  professor,  “ how,  as  I pump, 
the  air  under  the  globe  will  become  rarefied;  the  cat  will 
breathe  with  more  and  more  difficulty,  and  indeed  would  be 
asphyxiated  if  I pumped  long  enough,  but  we  will  conclude  the 
experiment  before  that,  and  you  will  see  that  the  moment  the 
air  re-enters  the  cat  will  immediately  regain  all  his  forces.” 
It  all  happened  exactly  as  he  had  described  it.  The  professor 
pumped,  and  the  cat  fell  panting,  thinking,  doubtless,  that  his 
last  hour  was  upon  him.  But,  the  instant  the  professor  ceased 
to  pump,  puss  was  himself  once  more.  He  was  released  and 
ran  away,  making  a vow,  no  doubt,  that  he  would  not  be  caught 
again.  In  a few  days,  however,  before  another  class,  the  good 
doctor  had  occasion  to  repeat  the  experiment.  The  cat  was 
captured  and  placed  under  the  bell  and  the  professor  began  his 
explanation,  “ I am  going  to  show  you  how,  as  I pump  . . .” 
But  the  students  observed  a quite  different  phenomenon  from 
that  which  was  intended,  for,  as  the  professor  pumped,  the  cat 
placed  one  of  his  paws  over  the  opening  through  which  the  air 
was  to  be  drawn  away.  And  as  often  as  the  professor  at- 
tempted to  repeat  the  experiment  he  repeated  his  counter- 
gesture ! 

During  the  Crimean  War,  Col.  Stuart  Wortley’s  cat  visited 
the  doctor’s  hut  to  get  a bayonet  wound  in  the  foot  examined 
and  bandaged.  The  colonel  found  her  wounded  after  the 
battle  of  Malakoff  and  took  her  daily  for  a time  to  the  regi- 
mental surgeon  for  treatment.  But  when  he  himself  became 
ill  she  continued  the  visits  of  her  own  accord  and  sat  quietly 

51 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

down  for  her  usual  treatment.^®  There  are  many  recorded 
instances  of  cats  bringing  their  kittens  to  their  mistresses  for 
treatment  and  cats  have  been  known  to  give  one  another 
obstetrical  assistance.  In  Madame  Michelet’s  book,  Mr. 
Frederick  Harrison  relates  a touching  incident  of  an  old  lady 
cat.  She  felt  she  was  dying  before  her  kittens  were  weaned. 
She  could  hardly  walk  but  she  disappeared  one  morning  carry- 
ing a kitten  and  came  back  without  it.  Next  day,  quite  ex- 
hausted, she  took  away  her  other  two  kittens  and  then  died. 
She  had  carried  each  kitten  to  a separate  cat,  each  of  which 
was  nourishing  a family  and  accepted  the  new  fosterling. 

A cat  will  sit  washing  his  face  within  two  inches  of  a dog  in 
the  most  frantic  state  of  barking  rage,  if  the  dog  be  chained. 
He  knows  the  dog  cannot  get  away.  Cats  also  have  a habit 
of  tantalizing  dogs  by  lying  on  exposed  window-sills,  with 
paws  temptingly  depending  just  out  of  reach.  You  may  also 
have  observed  for  yourself  how  impertinent  cats  can  be  to  dogs 
who  are  muzzled. 

Any  one  who  has  lived  on  terms  of  comparative  equality 
with  a cat  knows  that  he  will  show  his  intelligence  fifty  times 
a day.  To  be  sure  this  intelligence  is  usually  of  the  variety 
called  selfish.  Thereby  the  cat  shows  how  much  finer  his  in- 
telligence is  than  that  of  the  rest  of  the  animal  world.  He 
is  quite  unwilling  to  perform  feats  of  intelligence  for  which  he 
can  see  no  legitimate  reason,  or  through  which  he  is  unable  to 
derive  any  personal  satisfaction.  If  he  wantsi  submaxillary 
massage  he  knows  that  he  is  pretty  sure  of  getting  it  by  leaping 
into  some  one’s  lap.  If  he  does  not  want  it  he  knows  that  the 
best  way  of  avoiding  it  is  to  avoid  the  person  who  insists  on 
lavishing  it.  A cat,  it  has  been  said,  will  only  come  when 
called  if  dinner  is  in  the  offing.  This  is  very  much  my  pro- 
cedure. I refuse  to  make  casual  calls  but  often  accept  invita- 
tions to  dinner. 

In  spite  of  his  independence  and  his  inadaptability  to  human 

39  “ Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals,”  Vol.  II,  p.  374. 

52 


Treating  of  Traits 

desires  the  cat  can  be  made  useful,  which  is  perhaps  fortunate 
as  there  are  certain  people  who  consider  an  animal  worthless 
who  cannot  be  made  in  some  way  to  serve  that  superior  being 
man.  In  England  cats  work  for  the  government  in  offices, 
barracks,  docks  and  workshops.  There  are  at  least  two  thou- 
sand felines  so  employed  and  they  are  all  on  the  pay-roll,  re- 
ceiving a shilling  a week.  This  is  for  food,  for  contrary  to 
popular  belief  hungry  cats  do  not  make  the  best  mousers. 
Benvenuto  Cellini  was  right  when  he  said,  “ Cats  of  good 
breed  hunt  better  fat  than  lean.”  They  serve  to  effectually 
rid  these  places  of  rodents.  The  National  Printing  Office 
of  France  employs  a large  staff  of  cats  to  guard  the  paper 
from  rats  and  mice.  Vienna  has  official  cats  and  the  Mid- 
land Railway  in  England  has  eight  cats  among  its  employees. 
Cats  are  kept  in  all  the  large  United  States  Post  Offices  and 
in  the  military  magazines.  A writer  in  ” The  Spectator  ” 
tells  of  the  regret  felt  in  a large  London  factory  when  the 
” best  foundry  cat  ” died.  The  sand  moulds  for  making  casts 
in  the  foundry  are  mixed  with  flour.  Mice  eat  the  flour  and 
spoil  the  moulds.  Cats  are  kept  to  kill  the  mice  but  they  have 
to  be  taught  not  to  walk  on  the  moulds  or  to  scratch  them  up. 
The  cat  who  died  was  absolutely  perfect  in  this  respect.  The 
number  of  mice  a good  cat-hunter  can  destroy  goes  quite  be- 
yond the  probable.  Lane  writes  of  Avalking  with  his  cat 
Magpie  into  his  stables  when  a mob  of  mice  dashed  across  the 
room.  Magpie  leaped  into  the  group  and  caught  four  simul- 
taneously, two  in  her  jaws  and  one  under  each  forepaw!  Such 
prowess  is  not  rare  in  a good  mouser.  Every  retail  and  whole- 
sale butcher-shop  and  green-grocer,  every  stationer,  every  res- 
taurateur, must  therefore  have  his  cat  or  cats.  In  some  gro- 
ceries a cellar  cat  and  a shop  cat  are  kept.  I have  already 
mentioned  the  cold-storage  cats.  The  cat  also  destroys  a great 
number  of  insects,  flies,  cockroaches,  grasshoppers  and  mosqui- 

“ The  Cat  About  Town”;  “The  Spectator”;  Vol.  8o,  p.  197. 

*^'C.  H.  Lane:  “Rabbits,  Cats  and  Cavies,”  p.  231. 

53 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

toes.  During  the  late  war  the  English  government  conscripted 
500,000  cats,  a few  of  which  were  sent  to  sea  to  test  submarines 
and  the  remainder  to  the  trenches.  Their  warnings  of  the 
approach  of  a cloud  of  gas,  long  before  any  soldier  could 
smell  it,  saved  many  lives.  They  also  did  a good  deal  towards 
ridding  the  trenches  of  rats  and  mice,  and  probably  served  as 
pets  for  many  a doughboy. 

The  cat  also  is  the  one  animal,  save  the  mongoose,  that  is 
not  afraid  of  snakes  and  can  battle  successfully  even  with  the 
venomous  varieties.  J.  R.  Rengger,  who  has  written  of  the 
mammals  of  Paraguay,"*^  declares  that  he  has  more  than  once 
seen  cats  pursue  and  kill  snakes,  even  rattle-snakes,  on  the 
sandy,  grassless  plains  of  that  land.  “ With  their  rare  skill,” 
he  Avrites,  “ they  would  strike  the  snake  Avith  their  paw,  and 
at  the  same  time  avoid  its  spring.  If  the  snake  coiled  Itself 
they  would  not  attack  it  directly,  but  would  go  round  it  till  it 
became  tired  of  turning  its  head  after  them;  then  they  would 
strike  another  blow,  and  instantly  turn  aside.  If  the  snake 
started  to  run  away,  they  would  seize  its  tail,  as  if  to  play  with 
it.  By  virtue  of  these  continued  attacks  they  usually  des- 
troyed their  enemy  in  less  than  an  hour,  but  would  never  eat  its 
flesh.”  The  subject  has  served  in  fiction  but  the  man  who 
wrote  the  following  description  was  certainly  writing  some- 
thing he  had  once  observed:  “Now,  as  the  Dryad,  curled 

to  a capital  S,  quivering  and  hissing,  advanced  for  the  last  time 
to  the  charge,  it  was  bound  to  strike  across  the  edge  of  the 
sofa  on  which  I lay,  at  the  erect  head  of  Stoffles,  which  van- 
ished with  a juggling  celerity  that  would  have  dislocated  the 
collar-bone  of  any  other  animal  in  creation.  From  such  an 
exertion  the  snake  recovered  itself  Avith  an  obvious  effort, 
quick  beyond  question,  but  not  nearly  quick  enough.  Before 
I could  well  see  that  it  had  missed  its  aim,  Stoffles  had  launched 
out  like  a spring  released,  and,  burying  eight  or  ten  claws  in 

*2  “ Saugethiere  von  Paraguay.” 

G.  H.  Powell:  “The  Blue  Dryad”  in  “Animal  Episodes.” 

54 


Treating  of  Traits 

the  back  of  its  enemy’s  head,  pinned  it  down  against  the  stiff 
cushion  of  the  sofa.  The  tail  of  the  agonized  reptile  flung 
wildly  in  the  air  and  flapped  on  the  arched  back  of  the  imper- 
turbable tigress.  The  whiskered  muzzle  of  Stoffles  dropped 
quietly,  and  her  teeth  met  once,  twice,  thrice,  like  the  needle 
and  hook  of  a sewing-machine,  in  the  neck  of  the  Blue  Dryad; 
and  when,  after  much  deliberation,  she  let  it  go,  the  beast  fell 
into  a limp  tangle  on  the  floor.”  Moncrif  speaks  of  this 
special  talent  of  cats.  According  to  the  Frenchman  a certain 
promontory  in  the  Island  of  Cyprus  is  known  as  the  Cape  of 
Cats.  Formerly  there  was  a monastery  there  and  the  promon- 
tory was  infested  with  black  and  white  snakes.  The  cats 
belonging  to  the  monks  spent  happy  days  hunting  serpents, 
but,  when  the  bell  rang,  always  returned  to  the  monastery  for 
their  meals. 

Lieutenant  Colonel  A.  Buchanan,  M,  is  convinced  that 
the  Indian  plagues  are  caused  by  rats  and  that  they  could  be 
prevented  if  the  natives  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  keep  cats.‘‘® 
He  produces  statistics  which  seem  to  prove  that  the  villages  in 
which  there  were  cats  in  each  household  were  free  from  epi- 
demics of  cholera. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  a German,  one  Christopher  of 
Hapsburg,  projected  a plan  for  having  poison  gases  in  jars 
attached  to  the  backs  of  cats  disseminated  in  battle.  Chris- 

Moncrif:  “ Les  Chats,”  p.  59. 

“ Cats  as  Plague  Preventers”:  “British  Medical  Journal”;  London;  Octo- 

ber 24,  1908;  Vol.  3,  p.  1231. 

Hindus,  vyho  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis,  have  a valid  ob- 
jection to  taking  life.  In  Bombay  there  is  a hospital  for  sick  animals.  Professor 
Monier  Williams,  who  visited  it,  says,  “The  animals  are  well  fed  and  well 
tended,  though  it  certainly  seemed  to  me  that  a great  majority  would  be  more 
mercifully  provided  for  by  the  application  of  a loaded  pistol  to  their  heads.  . . . 
It  is  even  said  that  men  are  paid  to  sleep  on  dirty  woollen  beds  in  different 
parts  of  the  building  that  the  loathsome  vermin  with  which  they  are  infested 
may  be  supplied  with  their  nightly  need  of  human  blood.  These  men  are 
drugged  so  that  they  will  not  involuntarily  kill  the  vermin  In  their  sleep.” 
E.  P.  Evans:  “Evolutionary  Ethics  and  Animal  Psychology,”  p.  140. 


55 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

topher  was  an  officer  of  artillery  and  he  presented  his  drawing, 
which  was  not  accepted  for  practical  use,  to  the  Council  of 
One  and  Twenty  at  Strassbourg.  It  still  exists  in  the  great 
library  there.  There  is  another  story,  certainly  apocryphal, 
that  the  Persians,  bearing  pussies  in  their  arms,  once  marched 
upon  the  Egyptians  who,  refusing  to  harm  the  sacred  animal, 
were  put  to  rout. 

I have  elsewhere  related  how  occasionally  cats  bring  rabbits 
home  to  their  masters.  They  have  served  even  stranger  pur- 
poses. A physician  told  me  of  a lady  whose  milk  came  slowly 
after  child-birth.  He  suggested  the  substitution  of  an  animal 
at  the  nipple.  It  happened  that  the  family  cat  had  kittened  the 
same  night  and  the  tiny  mammal  was  substituted  with  complete 
success.  Daughter  and  kitten  therefore  grew  up  as  soeurs  de 
lait.  This  cat  acquired  the  pretty  habit  of  lighting  the 
Christmas  tree,  by  pressing  a button  with  her  forepaw.  She 
lived  to  the  remarkable  age  of  28  but  in  her  last  year  de- 
veloped a cancer.  The  physician  dressed  and  cared  for  the 
disease  until  Christmas  eve  when  she  lighted  her  last  Christmas 
tree  and  immediately  afterwards  was  chloroformed. 

But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  more  useless  a cat  is  the  more  he 
has  earned  his  right  to  companionship.  There  are  enough 
people  “ trying  to  make  themselves  useful  ” in  this  world  with- 
out the  added  competition  of  cats.  And  those  who  care  most 
for  the  cat  certainly  never  think  of  him  as  a mouser  or  a snaker. 
A writer  in  “ The  Nation  ” has  it:  “ To  respect  the  cat  is  the 

beginning  of  the  aesthetic  sense.  At  a stage  of  culture  when 
utility  governs  all  of  its  judgments,  mankind  prefers  the  dog” 

He  continues:  “To  the  cultivated  mind  the  cat  has  the  charm  of  complete- 

ness, the  satisfaction  which  makes  a sonnet  more  than  an  epic.  . . . The  ancients 
figured  eternity  as  a serpent  biting  its  own  tail.  There  will  yet  arise  a philoso- 
pher who  will  conceive  the  Absolute  as  a gigantic  and  self-satisfied  cat,  purring 
as  it  clasps  in  comfortable  round  its  own  perfection,  and  uttering  as  it  purrs, 
that  line  of  Edmund  Spenser’s  about  the  Cosmos — ‘It  loved  itself  because  itself 
was  fair.’  A cat  blinking  at  midnight  among  your  papers  and  your  books  de- 
clares with  more  eloquence  than  any  skull  the  vanity  of  knowledge  and  the  use- 

56 


Treating  of  Traits 

and  a distinguished  scholar  at  Oxford  avowed  to  believe 
that  men  admired  cats  or  dogs  according  as  to  whether  they 
were  Platonists  or  Aristotelians:  “The  visionary  chooses  a 

cat;  the  man  of  concrete  a dog.  Hamlet  must  have  kept  a 
cat.  Platonists,  or  cat-lovers,  include  sailors,  painters,  poets, 
and  pick-pockets.  Aristotelians,  or  dog-lovers,  include 
soldiers,  foot-ball  players,  and  burglars.”  Champfleury’s 
dictum  is  that  “ refined  and  delicate  natures  understand  the 
cat.  Women,  poets,  and  artists  hold  it  in  great  esteem,  for 
they  recognize  the  exquisite  delicacy  of  its  nervous  system; 
indeed,  only  coarse  natures  fall  to  discern  the  natural  distinc- 
tion of  the  animal.”  Madame  Delphine  Gay  writes  of  the 
catlike  man:  “ The  catlike  man  is  one  upon  whom  no  tricks 

can  be  played  with  success.  He  possesses  none  of  the  qualities 
of  the  doglike  man  but  he  enjoys  all  the  advantages  of  those 
qualities.  He  is  selfish,  ungrateful,  miserly,  avaricious,  dap- 
per, persuasive,  gifted  with  intelligence,  cleverness,  and  the 
power  of  fascination.  He  possesses  refined  experience;  he 
guesses  what  he  does  not  know;  he  understands  what  is  hidden 
from  him.  To  this  race  belong  great  diplomats,  successful 
gallants,  in  fact  all  the  men  whom  women  call  perfidious.” 

The  cat  is  admired  for  his  independence,  his  courage,  his 
prudence,  his  patience,  his  naturalness,  and  his  wit.  He  is,  as 
Madame  Michelet  reminds  us,  essentially  a noble  animal. 
There  is  no  mixture  in  his  blood.  This  is  so  true  that  you  can 
tell  any  member  of  the  family  at  a glance.  Tiger,  lion,  and 
house-cat  differ  more  in  size  than  in  appearance.  The  origi- 
nality of  the  cat  is  to  offer  in  himself  an  exquisite  and  harmless 
miniature  of  his  wild  brothers.  He  lives  like  a great 
lord  and  there  is  nothing  vulgar  about  him.  The  delicacy 
of  the  animal  is  one  of  his  fascinations.  All  of  us  have 
wondered  how  a cat  can  leap  upon  a table  littered  with 

lessness  of  striving.  . . . The  cat  enjoys  the  march  of  the  seasons,  spins  through 
space  with  the  stars,  and  shares  in  her  quietism  the  inevitable  life  of  the  uni- 
verse. In  all  our  hurrying  can  we  do  more?  ” 

57 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

breakable  objects,  alighting  firmly  without  disturbing  any- 
thing. Curiously  enough,  as  Philip  Gilbert  Hamerton 
has  pointed  out,  this  is  not  a proof  of  lady-like  civilization  in 
the  cat  but  again  evidence  that  she  has  retained  her  savage  hab- 
its. “ When  she  so  carefully  avoids  the  glasses  on  the  dinner- 
table  she  is  not  thinking  of  her  behaviour  as  a dependent  of 
civilized  man,  but  acting  in  obedience  to  hereditary  habits  of 
caution  in  the  stealthy  chase,  which  is  the  natural  accomplish- 
ment of  her  species.  She  will  stir  no  branch  of  a shrub  lest 
her  fated  bird  escape  her,  and  her  feet  are  noiseless  that  the 
mouse  may  not  know  of  her  coming.”  Mr.  Hamerton  has 
captured  and  crystallized  another  interesting  trait  of  the  cat 
when  he  says,  “ The  cat  always  uses  precisely  the  necessary 
force,  other  animals  roughly  employ  what  strength  they 
happen  to  possess  without  reference  to  the  small  occasion. 
One  day  I watched  a young  cat  playing  with  a daffodil.  She 
sat  on  her  hind-legs  and  patted  the  flower  with  her  paws,  first 
with  one  paw  and  then  with  the  other,  making  the  light  yellow 
ball  sway  from  side  to  side,  yet  not  injuring  a petal  or  a 
stamen.  She  took  a delight,  evidently,  in  the  very  delicacy  of 
the  exercise,  whereas  a dog  or  a horse  has  no  enjoyment  in 
his  own  movements,  but  acts  strongly  when  he  is  strong,  with- 
out calculating  whether  the  force  used  may  be  in  great  part 
superfluous.  This  proportioning  of  the  force  to  the  need  is 
well  known  to  be  one  of  the  evidences  of  refined  culture,  both 
in  manners  and  in  the  fine  arts.  If  animals  could  speak  as 
fabulists  have  feigned,  the  dog  would  be  a blunt,  outspoken, 
honest  fellow,  but  the  cat  would  have  the  rare  talent  of  never 
saying  a word  too  much.  A hint  of  the  same  character  is  con- 
veyed by  the  sheathing  of  the  claws,  and  also  by  the  contracta- 
bility  of  the  pupil  of  the  eye.  The  hostile  claws  are  invisible, 
and  are  not  shown  when  they  are  not  wanted,  yet  are  ever 
sharp  and  ready.  The  eye  has  a narrow  pupil  in  broad  day- 
light, receiving  no  more  sunshine  than  is  agreeable,  but  it  will 


“ Chapters  on  Animals.’ 


58 


'•  GATHER  KITTENS  WHILE  YOU  MAY 


Treating  of  Traits 

gradually  expand  as  twilight  falls,  and  clear  vision  needs  a 
larger  and  larger  surface.  Some  of  these  cat-qualities  are 
very  desirable  in  criticism.  The  claws  of  a critic  ought  to  be 
very  sharp,  but  not  perpetually  prominent,  and  the  eye  ought 
to  see  far  into  rather  obscure  objects  without  being  dazzled 
by  plain  daylight.” 

There  are  those  who  find  themselves  uninterested  in  the 
appearance  and  doings  of  full-grown  felines  who  are  unable 
to  resist  the  fascinations  of  kittens.  The  kitten,  indeed,  is  an 
irresistible  bundle  of  animate  fur,  all  nerves  and  tenderness, 
all  play-actor,  dashing  madly  against  nothing,  prancing 
down  the  garden  walk  with  the  affected  arched  back  of  a 
Rutterkin  about  to  commit  foul  deeds,  chasing  his  tail,  making 
a vain  attempt  to  capture  and  swallow  his  own  shadow,  peering 
curiously  at  esoteric  insects,  or  entranced  and  delighted  with  a 
viper,  like  Cowper’s  kitten. 

Who,  never  havittg  seen  in  field  or  house 
The  like,  sat  still  and  silent  as  a mouse; 

Only  projecting , with  attention  due. 

Her  whisker  d face,  she  asked  him,  ' Who  are  you?  ^ 

Where  there  are  peacocks  it  is  a pretty  sight  to  see  the  kittens, 
amazed  by  the  proud  and  spreading  tail,  dash  and  spring 
upon  it  and  go  whirling  round  while  the  furious  bird  attempts 
to  throw  the  demons  off.  But  it  is  enough  to  watch  them  lap 
the  cream  from  a bowl  on  the  breakfast  table  with  the  inno- 
cence of  cherubs,  or  lie  contented  purring  balls  of  warm  fur 
in  your  lap  or  on  your  shoulder.  Kittens,  like  Japanese  and 
Negro  babies,  may  lose  some  of  their  charm  when  they  grow 
older,  but  as  kittens  they  are  paramount.  And  therefore,  it 
is  wise  to  follow  the  advice  of  Oliver  Herford: 

Gather  kittens  while  you  may. 

Time  brings  only  sorrow; 

A nd  the  kittens  of  today 

Will  be  old  cats  tomorrow. 

59 


Chapter  Three:  Ailurophobes  and 

Other  Cat-Haters 


Some  7nen  there  are  love  not  a gaping  pig; 

Some  that  are  mad  if  they  behold  a cat. 

Shylock. 

One  Is  permitted  to  assume  an  attitude  of  placid  indifference 
In  the  matter  of  elephants,  cockatoos,  H.  G.  Wells,  Sweden, 
roast  beef,  Puccini,  and  even  Mormonism,  but  In  the  matter 
of  cats  it  seems  necessary  to  take  a firm  stand.  The  cat  him- 
self insists  upon  this;  he  Invariably  inspires  strong  feelings. 
He  is,  indeed,  the  only  animal  who  does.  From  his  admirers 
he  evokes  an  intense  adoration  which  usually  finds  an  outlet  in 
exaggerated  expression.  It  is  practically  impossible  for  a cat- 
lover  to  meet  a stray  feline  on  the  street  without  stopping  to 
pass  the  time  of  day  with  him.  I can  say  for  myself  that  it 
takes  me  considerably  longer  to  traverse  a street  in  which  cats 
occur  than  it  does  a catless  thoroughfare.  But  so  magnetic 
an  animal  is  bound  to  repel  when  he  does  not  fascinate,  and 
those  who  hate  the  cat  hate  him  with  a malignity  which,  I 
think,  only  snakes  in  the  animal  kingdom  provoke  to  an  equal 
degree.  Puss  has,  indeed,  been  dubbed  the  “ furred  serpent.” 
The  association  of  the  cat  with  witches  and  various  supersti- 
tions is  responsible  for  a good  deal  of  this  antipathy;  there  is 
also  the  aversion  of  those  who  love  dogs  and  birds  with  un- 
reasonable exclusions;  finally  it  has  pleased  many  small  boys 
to  make  scientific  investigation  Into  the  proverbial  saying  that 
a cat  has  nine  lives.  So  the  cat  through  the  ages  has  been 
more  cruelly  and  persistently  mistreated  than  any  other  beast. 
This  is,  I suppose,  natural,  when  we  remember  that  In  one 

6o 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

epoch  he  was  regarded  as  a god  and  in  another  as  an  adjunct 
of  sorcery;  accordingly  he  has  suffered  martyrdom  along  with 
other  gnostics. 

There  is  even  a disease  for  cat-haters,  known  as  ailuropho- 
bia,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  ailuros  (the  waving  ones)  which 
the  Greeks  took  aboard  their  ships  to  kill  mice,  are  now 
thought  to  have  been  snowy-breasted  martens.^  Ailurophobia 
is  a stronger  feeling  than  hate;  it  is  a most  abject  kind  of  fear. 
Strong  men  and  women  are  seized  with  nausea,  even  faint,  in 
the  presence  of  a tiny  kitten,  sometimes  even  an  unseen  kitten. 
The  simplest  form  of  this  complaint  is  asthmatic  ailurophobia; 
in  other  words  people  who  suffer  from  asthma  or  hay-fever 
find  the  disease  aggravated  by  the  presence  of  cats.  The  other 
form  is  more  serious.  I have  a friend,  otherwise  seemingly 
sane,  who  exhibits  symptoms  of  the  most  violent  terror  at  the 
sight  of  a kitten  four  weeks  old;  an  older  cat  will  sometimes 
throw  her  into  convulsions.  This  malady  is  not  rare,  nor  is 
it  limited  to  women.  Scott  writes  of  a gallant  Highland  chief- 
tain who  had  been  “ seen  to  change  into  all  the  colours  of  his 
plaid  ” ^ when  confronted  with  a cat.  Probably  the  most 
celebrated  ailurophobe  in  history  was  Napoleon.  According 
to  a popular  legend,  not  long  after  the  battle  of  Wagram  and 
the  second  occupation  of  Vienna  by  the  French,  an  aide-de-camp 
of  the  Corsican,  who  at  the  time  occupied,  together  with  his 
suite,  the  Palace  of  Schonbrunn,  was  proceeding  to  bed  at  an 
unusually  late  hour  when,  on  passing  the  door  of  Napoleon’s 
bedroom,  he  was  surprised  to  hear  a most  singular  noise  and 
repeated  calls  for  assistance  from  the  Emperor.  Opening  the 
door  hastily,  and  rushing  into  the  room,  he  saw  the  greatest 
soldier  of  the  age,  half  undressed,  his  countenance  agitated, 
beaded  drops  of  perspiration  standing  on  his  brow,  making 
frequent  and  convulsive  lunges  with  his  sword  through  the 
tapestry  that  lined  the  walls,  behind  which  a cat  had  secreted 

1 According  to  the  researches  of  Professor  Rolleston  of  Oxford. 

^ “ Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,”  p.  30. 

61 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

herself.  Madame  Junot  was  aware  of  this  weakness  and  Is 
reported  to  have  gained  an  important  political  advantage  over 
the  Little  Corporal  merely  by  mentioning  a cat  at  the  right 
moment.  In  one  of  his  Spectator  papers  Addison  tells  how  a 
lover  won  his  lady  from  an  ailurophobic  rival  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a “ purring  piece  of  tortoise-shell.”  And  Peggy  Bacon 
has  woven  a diverting  tale  of  an  ailurophobic  King  and  a felin- 
ophilistlc  Queen  whose  troubles  were  finally  solved  by  the 
Court  Physician,  who  brought  them  a thin,  wliy,  long-legged 
creature,  with  no  tail  at  all,  large  ears  like  sails,  a face  like  a 
lean  isosceles  triangle  with  the  nose  as  a very  sharp  apex,  eyes 
small  and  yellow  like  flat  bone  buttons,  brown  fur,  short  and 
coarse,  and  large  floppy  feet.  It  had  a voice  like  a steam  siren 
and  Its  name  was  Rosamund.  ” The  King  and  Queen  were 
both  devoted  to  it;  she  because  it  was  a cat,  he  because  it 
seemed  anything  but  a cat.”  ^ 

Dr.  S.  Weir  Mitchell  spent  some  time  investigating  the 
matter  of  ailurophobla,  sending  letters  of  query  all  over  the 
world.  He  reported  * that  from  one  point  of  view  the  result 
was  entirely  unsatisfactory.  The  mass  of  evidence  he  accumu- 
lated gave  him  no  clue  to  the  cause  of  the  ailment.  It  has 
sometimes  been  included  with  prenatal  phenomena  but  without, 
it  would  seem,  sufficient  justification.  Dr.  Mitchell  educes  a 
theory  that  It  Is  the  odour  which  these  allurophobes  detect 
when  they  ferret  out  hidden  pussies  but  cats,  house-cats  at  any 
rate,  are  practically  devoid  of  odour  to  the  ordinary  nose. 
However  it  must  be  remembered  that  there  are  people  who  can 
sort  handkerchiefs  fresh  from  the  laundry  by  smelling  them. 
Nevertheless  Dr.  J.  G.  Wood’s  theory  that  allurophobes  sense 
hidden  cats  by  their  electricity  seems  more  plausible. 

Whatever  the  cause  there  are  many  recorded  instances  of 
persons  suffering  from  ailurophobla  exhibiting  symptoms  of 
distress  in  rooms  which  apparently  contained  no  cats;  later  cats 

® “ The  Queen’s  Cat”  in  “The  True  Philosopher.” 

^ “ Cat  Fear”;  “The  Ladies’  Home  Journal”;  March  1906. 

62 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

would  be  discovered,  hidden  behind  curtains  or  in  closets.  Dr. 
Mitchell  furnishes  us  with  an  interesting  example:  “ In  my 

own  family  an  uncle  was  the  subject.  My  father,  the  late 
Professor  John  K.  Mitchell,  having  placed  a small  cat  in  a 
closet  with  a saucer  of  cream,  asked  Mr.  H.  to  come  and  look 
at  some  old  books  in  which  he  would  be  interested.  He  sat 
down,  but  in  a few  minutes  grew  pale,  shivered  and  said, 
‘ There  is  a cat  in  the  room.’  Doctor  Mitchell  said,  ‘ Look 
about  you.  There  is  no  cat  in  the  room.  Do  you  hear  one 
outside?’  He  said,  ‘No,  but  there  is  a cat.’  He  became 
faint  and,  complaining  of  nausea,  went  out  and  promptly  re- 
covered.” 

Rudyard  Kipling  once  wrote  an  amusingly  ironic  story  ® 
about  an  ailurophobe,  who,  through  seemingly  mystic  channels, 
was  plagued  with  cats  even  as  the  Egyptians  were  plagued 
with  locusts.  Half  the  psychical  societies  in  India  appear  to 
have  been  interested  in  the  solution  of  the  phenomenon  but 
the  explanation  when  it  finally  came  was  neither  supernatural 
nor  miraculous.  The  page  in  which  Kipling  describes  the 
” sending  ” is  very  diverting:  ” When  a man  who  hates  cats 

wakes  up  in  the  morning  and  finds  a little  squirming  kitten  on 
his  breast,  or  puts  his  hand  into  his  ulster-pocket  and  finds  a 
little  half-dead  kitten  where  his  gloves  should  be,  or  opens 
his  trunk  and  finds  a vile  kitten  among  his  dress-shirts,  or  goes 
for  a long  ride  with  his  mackintosh  strapped  on  his  saddle- 
bow and  shakes  a little  squalling  kitten  from  its  folds  when  he 
opens  it,  or  goes  out  to  dinner  and  finds  a little  blind  kitten 
under  his  chair,  or  stays  at  home  and  finds  a writhing  kitten 
under  the  quilt,  or  wriggling  among  his  boots,  or  hanging, 
head  downwards,  in  his  tobacco-jar,  or  being  mangled  by  his 
terrier  in  the  veranda, — when  such  a man  finds  one  kitten, 
neither  more  nor  less,  once  a day  in  a place  where  no  kitten 
rightly  could  or  should  be,  he  is  naturally  upset.  When  he 
dare  not  murder  his  daily  trove  because  he  believes  it  to  be  a 

® “ The  Sending  of  Dana  Da  ” in  “ In  Black  and  White.” 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Manifestation,  an  Emissary,  an  Embodiment,  and  half  a 
dozen  other  things  all  out  of  the  regular  course  of  nature,  he 
is  more  than  upset.  Ele  is  actually  distressed.” 

Ailurophobes,  as  a rule,  do  no  harm  to  cats,  although  they 
are  often  quite  willing  to  have  others  put  them  out  of  the 
way.  They  usually  let  cats  alone  and  as  cats  like  to  be  let 
alone  they  often  manifest  perverse  attention  towards  ailuro- 
phobes, giving  them  marks  of  affection  and  honour.  “ I 
once  had  a large  silver-ringed  cat,”  writes  Andrew  Lang,  “ of 
unemotional  temperament.  But  finding  a lady,  rather  ailuro- 
phobic,  in  a low  dress  at  dinner,  Tippoo  suddenly  leaped  up 
and  alighted  on  her  neck.  He  was  never  so  friendly  with  non- 
ailurophobes.” 

No,  it  is  not  from  people  who  fear  cats  that  puss’s  greatest 
enemies  are  recruited.  Perhaps  unjust  and  stupid  natural 
historians  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  occasional 
disfavour  in  which  domestic  felines  are  held.  Witness,  for 
example,  what  Buffon  has  to  say  about  the  tiger  in  the  house: 
“ The  cat  is  a faithless  domestic,  and  only  kept  through  neces- 
sity to  oppose  to  another  domestic  which  incommodes  us  still 
more,  and  which  we  cannot  drive  away,  for  we  pay  no  respect 
to  those,  who,  being  fond  of  all  beasts,  keep  cats  for  amuse- 
ment. Though  these  animals  are  gentle  and  frolicsome  when 
young,  yet  they,  even  then,  possess  an  innate  cunning  and 
perverse  disposition,  which  age  increases,  and  which  education 
only  serves  to  conceal.  They  are  naturally  inclined  to  theft 
and  the  best  education  only  converts  them  into  servile  and  flat- 

® Those  who  have  no  feeling  for  cats  regard  them  as  ululant  retromingent 
mammals.  Thomas  Pennant,  perhaps,  was  one  of  these.  Here  is  his  description 
of  the  sphinx  of  the  fireside:  “It  is  an  useful,  but  deceitful,  domestic;  active, 

neat,  sedate,  intent  on  its  prey.  When  pleased  it  purres  and  moves  its  tail; 
when  angry  it  spits,  hisses,  and  strikes  with  its  foot.  When  walking  it  draws  in 
its  claws:  it  drinks  little:  is  fond  of  fish:  it  washes  its  face  with  its  fore-foot 
(Linnaeus  says  at  the  approach  of  a storm)  : the  female  is  remarkably  salacious; 
a piteous,  squalling,  jarring  lover.  Its  eyes  shine  in  the  night:  its  hair  when 
rubbed  in  the  dark  emits  fire;  it  is  even  proverbially  tenacious  of  life:  always 
lights  on  its  feet:  is  fond  of  perfumes,  marum,  cat-mint,  valerian,  etc.” 

64 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

tering  robbers;  for  they  have  the  same  address,  subtlety,  and 
inclination  for  mischief  or  rapine.  Like  all  knaves,  they  know 
how  to  conceal  their  intentions;  to  watch,  wait,  and  choose 
opportunities  for  seizing  their  prey;  to  fly  from  punishment, 
and  to  remain  away  until  the  danger  is  over,  and  they  can  re- 
turn with  safety.  They  readily  conform  to  the  habits  of 
society,  but  never  acquire  its  manners;  for  of  attachment  they 
have  only  the  appearance,  as  may  seem  by  the  obliquity  of  their 
motions  and  the  duplicity  of  their  looks.  They  never  look 
in  the  face  those  who  treat  them  the  best,  and  of  whom  they 
seem  to  be  the  most  fond,  but  either  through  fear  or  false- 
hood, they  approach  him  by  windings  to  seek  for  those  caresses 
they  have  no  pleasure  in,  but  only  to  flatter  those  from  whom 
they  receive  them.  Very  different  from  that  faithful  animal 
the  dog,  whose  sentiments  are  all  directed  to  the  person  of  his 
master,  the  cat  appears  only  to  feel  for  himself,  to  live  condi- 
tionally, only  to  partake  of  society  that  he  may  abuse  it,  and  by 
this  disposition  he  has  more  affinity  to  man  than  the  dog,  who 
is  all  sincerity.”  Buffon  somewhat  redeems  himself  by  his 
last  sentence  but  the  foregoing  part  of  this  diatribe  is  arrant 
nonsense.  Far  from  averting  their  gaze,  cats  have  a habit 
of  staring  at  one  by  the  hour;  it  is  one  of  their  most  dlsconert- 
ing  tricks.  But  why  waste  time  confuting  Buffon?  In  that 
invaluable  work  of  reference,  “ The  Devil’s  Dictionary,”  I 
find  that  Ambrose  Bierce  remarks  in  his  definition  of  “ Zo- 
ology ” : ‘‘  Two  of  the  science’s  most  illustrious  expounders 

were  Buffon  and  Oliver  Goldsmith,  from  both  of  whom  we 
learn  (‘  1 ‘ Histoire  generale  des  animaux  ’ and  ‘ A History  of 
Animated  Nature  ’)  that  the  domestic  cow  sheds  Its  horns 
every  two  years.”  Bierce,  himself,  however,  was  no  lover  of 
cats.  I do  not  think  he  cared  for  any  kind  of  animal,  certainly 
not  for  man.  His  definition  of  “ Cat  ” in  this  same  dictionary 
is  “ A soft  Indestructible  automaton  provided  by  nature  to 
be  kicked  when  things  go  wrong  in  the  domestic  circle.”  Noah 
Webster  may  be  added  to  this  infamous  list.  In  his  dictionary 

65 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

he  inserted  this  gratuitous  insult  to  “ the  stealthy-stepping 
cat”:  ” The  domestic  cat  is  a deceitful  animal  and  when  en- 

raged extremely  spiteful.”  Sir  Walter  Scott  originally  dis- 
liked cats;  in  his  latter  days  he  admitted:  “The  greatest 

advance  of  age  which  I have  yet  found  is  liking  a cat,  an  animal 
which  I detested,  and  becoming  fond  of  a garden,  an  art  which 
I despised.”  King  Henry  III  of  France,  a weak  and  dissolute 
monarch,  hated  cats.  So  did  Meyerbeer,  M.  Jusserand  says 
of  Ronsard,  “ He  cannot  hide  the  fact  that  he  likes  to  sleep 
on  the  left  side,  that  he  hates  cats,  dislikes  servants  ‘ with 
slow  hands,’  believes  in  omens,  adores  physical  exercises  and 
gardening,  and  prefers,  especially  in  summer,  vegetables  to 
meat.”  And  Ronsard  bimself  left  evidence  of  his  aversion  in 
the  following  stanzas : 

Homme  ne  vit,  qui  tant  hdisse  au  rnonde 

Les  chats  que  moi,  d’une  haine  profonde. 

Je  hai  leurs  yeux,  leur  front,  et  leiir  regard; 

Et  les  voyant  je  m’enfms  d’ autre  part? 

Edmund  Gosse  has  rendered  these  lines  into  English: 

There  is  no  man  noiu  living  anywhere 

Who  hates  cats  with  a deeper  hate  than  I ; 

I hate  their  eyes,  their  heads,  the  way  they  stare. 

And  when  I see  one  come,  I turn  and  fly? 

Honore  Schoefer  and  Toussenel  also  hated  cats.  The  latter 
once  remarked  that  no  man  of  taste  could  maintain  sympa- 
thetic relations  with  an  animal  which  was  fond  of  asparagus. 

Hilaire  Belloc  has  very  forcibly  expressed  his  dislike  of  cats, 

Dr.  Johnson,  who  really  liked  cats  better  than  Boswells,  was  somewhat  diffi- 
dent about  saying  so.  The  definition  in  his  dictionary  is  ambiguous:  “A  do- 

mestick  animal  that  catches  mice,  commonly  reckoned  by  naturalists  the  lowest 
order  of  the  leonine  species.” 

® From  a long  poem  addressed  to  Remy  Belleau,  the  poet,  quoted  in  Graham  R. 
Tomson’s  anthology,  “ Concerning  Cats.” 

^ “ Gossip  in  a Library,”  p.  178. 


66 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

but  in  spite  of  himself,  admiration  for  the  little  animals  sneaks 
in  and  out  of  his  horrid  lines: 

“ I do  not  like  Them.  It  is  no  good  asking  me  why,  though 
I have  plenty  of  reasons.  I do  not  like  Them.  There  would 
be  no  particular  point  in  saying  I do  not  like  Them  if  it  were 
not  that  so  many  people  doted  on  Them,  and  when  one  hears 
Them  praised,  it  goads  one  to  expressing  one’s  hatred  and  fear 
of  Them. 

“ I know  very  well  that  They  can  do  one  harm  and  that  They 
have  occult  powers.  All  the  world  has  known  that  for  a hun- 
dred thousand  years,  more  or  less,  and  every  attempt  has  been 
made  to  propitiate  Them.  James  I would  drown  Their  mis- 
tress or  burn  her,  but  They  were  spared.  Men  would  mum- 
mify Them  in  Egypt,  and  worship  the  mummies;  men  would 
carve  Them  in  stone  in  Cyprus  and  Crete  and  Asia  Minor,  or 
(more  remarkable  still)  artists,  especially  in  the  Western  Em- 
pire, would  leave  Them  out  altogether,  so  much  was  Their  in- 
fluence dreaded.  Well,  I yield  so  far  as  not  to  print  Their 
name,  and  only  to  call  Them,  ‘ They  ’ but  I hate  Them  and  I 
am  not  afraid  to  say  so. 

“ Their  master  protects  Them.  They  have  a charmed  life. 
I have  seen  one  thrown  from  a great  height  into  a London 
street  which  when  It  reached  it  It  walked  quietly  away  with 
the  dignity  of  the  Lost  World  to  which  It  belonged. 

“They  will  drink  beer.  This  is  not  a theory;  I know  it; 
I have  seen  it  with  my  own  eyes.  They  will  eat  special  foods; 
They  will  even  eat  dry  bread  . . . but  never  upon  any  occa- 
sion will  They  eat  anything  that  has  been  poisoned,  so  utterly 
lacking  are  They  in  simplicity  and  humility,  and  so  abominably 
well  filled  with  cunning  by  whatever  demon  first  brought  Their 
race  into  existence. 

“ All  that  They  do  is  venomous,  and  all  that  They  think  is 
evil,  and  when  I take  mine  away  (as  I mean  to  do  next  week 
— in  a basket),  I shall  first  read  in  a book  of  statistics  what 
is  the  wickedest  part  of  London,  and  I shall  leave  It  there,  for 

67 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

I know  of  no  one  even  among  my  neighbours  quite  as  vile  as 
to  deserve  such  a gift.” 

Alphonse  Daudet  was  afraid  of  cats;  he  told  Georges  Doc- 
quols  the  cause  of  this  terror:  ‘‘One  evening  we  were  at 

home,  circled  around  the  lamp.  My  father  alone  was  absent 
and  not  expected  to  return  that  night.  Indeed,  we  expected 
nobody.  The  peace  of  the  fireside  was  complete  and  charm- 
ing. Suddenly,  In  the  next  room,  the  piano  began  to  play 
Itself.  As  If  under  the  gloved  fingers  of  thick  mittens,  the 
notes  cried  feebly  at  Intervals.  ...  I was  terrified.  All  of 
us  were  frightened.  . . . After  a moment  of  silence,  the 
piano  suggested  lugubrious  chromatic  groans.  It  was  as 
though  souls  were  weeping  In  the  drawing-room.  What  a 
sensation ! Then  the  piano  spoke  no  more,  ceased  to  groan, 
but  there  was  a fall  on  the  carpet  of  something  light  and  heavy 
at  the  same  time,  a muffled  weight  Impossible  to  describe.  . . . 
After  another  silence,  a little  cry.  ...  It  was  the  house-cat.” 

If  cat-haters  would  only  be  content  with  hating  no  one  would 
have  any  complaint  to  make,  but  poor  puss  has  been  persecuted 
as  virulently  as  Christians  In  ancient  Rome  and  Jews  In  modern 
Poland. 

Cats  both  black  and  brave  unnumbered 
Have  for  naught  been  foully  slain. 

As  he  frequently  jumped  In  and  out  of  the  windows  of 
houses  Inhabited  by  witches  he  speedily  became  affiliated  In  the 
public  mind  with  the  pythoness  herself  and  often  shared  her 
dread  fate.  These  mediaeval  hags  did  nothing  to  dispel  this 
belief,  for  often  In  their  confessions  they  Inculpated  cats.  In 
a seventeenth  century  execution  fourteen  cats  were  shut  In  a 
cage  with  a woman  who  was  roasted  over  a slow  fire  while  the 
cats  in  misery  and  terror  clawed  her  in  their  own  death 
agonies.  When  Queen  Elizabeth  was  crowned  a feature  of 

“ On  Them”  in  “On  Nothing  and  Kindred  Subjects”;  Methuen  and  Co.; 
1908. 


68 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

the  processor!  was  a wicker  pope,  the  interior  of  which  was 
filled  with  live  cats,  who  “ squalled  in  a most  hideous  manner 
as  soon  as  they  felt  the  fire.”  The  culmination  of  many  a 
religious  fete  in  Germany,  France,  and  England  consisted  in 
pitching  some  wretched  puss  off  a height  or  into  a bonfire.  In 
1753  certain  Frenchmen  received  a quittance  of  one  hundred 
sols  parisis  for  having  furnished  during  three  years  all  the  cats 
necessary  for  the  fires  of  the  festival  of  St.  John. 

In  Vosges,  cats  were  burned  on  Shrove  Tuesday;  in 
Alsace  they  were  tossed  into  the  Easter  bonfire.  In  the  de- 
partment of  the  Ardennes,  cats  were  flung  into  the  bonfires 
kindled  on  the  first  Sunday  in  Lent;  sometimes,  in  a more 
graceful  form  of  cruelty,  they  were  hung  over  the  fire  from  the 
end  of  a pole  and  roasted  alive.  “ The  cat,  which  represented 
the  devil,  could  not  suffer  enough.”  In  the  midsummer  fires 
formerly  lighted  in  the  Place  de  Greve  at  Paris  it  was  the 
custom  to  burn  a basket,  barrel,  or  sack  full  of  live  cats  which 
was  hung  from  a tall  mast  in  the  midst  of  a bonfire.  In  1648 
Louis  XIV,  crowned  with  a wreath  of  roses  and  bearing  roses 
in  his  hands,  ignited  this  fire,  danced  before  it,  and  partook  of 
the  banquet  afterwards  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville.^^ 

Workmen  in  France  were  at  one  time  accustomed  before 
laying  the  last  board  in  a floor  to  intern  underneath  it  a living 
cat;  this  ceremony  was  supposed  to  carry  good  fortune  to  the 
inmates  of  the  house.  In  demolishing  old  mansions  in  Paris 
the  dried  remains  of  pussies  convulsed  in  suffering  that  they  en- 
dured in  dying  are  often  found. 

In  the  old  remedies  devised  by  hags  and  sorcerers  there 
were  cat  ingredients:  cats’  brains,  cats’  eyes  and  cats’  grease 
were  called  for  in  certain  prescriptions.  In  an  old  collection 
called  “ The  Young  Angler’s  Delight  ” the  following  recipe 
for  catching  fish  may  be  found:  “Smother  a cat  to  death; 

then  bleed  him,  and  having  flea’d  and  paunched  him,  roast  him 
on  a spit  without  larding;  keep  the  dripping  to  mix  with  the 
These  examples  are  from  Frazer’s  “ The  Golden  Bough.” 

69 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

yolks  of  eggs  and  an  equal  quantity  of  oil  of  spikenard;  mix 
these  well  together,  and  anoint  your  line,  hook  or  bait  there- 
with, and  you  will  find  them  come  to  your  content.” 

Small  boys  have  long  held  it  to  be  their  prerogative  to  tor- 
ment cats,  tying  cans  or  a string  of  exploding  firecrackers  to 
their  tails,  installing  their  paws  in  walnut  shells,  or  sending 
them  to  navigate  the  horse-pond  in  a bowl.  Booth  Tarking- 
ton,  who  may  be  considered  an  authority  on  the  adolescent 
period,  writes,  “ The  suffering  of  cats  is  a barometer  of  the 
nerve-pressure  of  boys,  and  it  may  be  accepted  as  sufficiently 
established  that  Wednesday  — after  school-hours  — is  the 
worst  time  for  cats.  . . . Confirming  the  effect  of  Wednesday 
upon  boys  in  general,  it  is  probable  that,  if  full  statistics  were 
available,  they  would  show  that  cats  dread  Wednesdays,  and 
that  their  fear  is  shared  by  other  animals  and  would  be  shared, 
to  an  extent  by  windows,  if  windows  possessed  nervous  systems. 
Nor  must  this  probable  apprehension  on  the  part  of  cats  and 
the  like  be  thought  mere  superstition.  Cats  have  supersti- 
tions, it  is  true,  but  certain  actions  inspired  by  the  sight  of  a 
boy  with  a missile  in  his  hand  are  better  evidence  of  the  work- 
ings of  logic  upon  a practical  nature  than  of  faith  in  the  super- 
natural.” Edwin  Tenney  Brewster  tells  how  boys  in  de- 
fault of  a proper  football  played  their  game  through  with  two 
living  cats  bound  together  with  a clothes  line.  “ The  public 
is  sentimental,”  he  observes.  “ It  can’t  bear  to  have  the  little 
things  killed.  So  it  drops  them  into  ash-harrels,  where  they 
die  — in  the  course  of  time  and  not  altogether  comfortably. 
It  tosses  them  into  cess-pools,  and  happily  the  next  rain  sends 
water  enough  to  drown  them.  Specially  careful  house-wives 
before  consigning  kittens  to  the  waste  heap  have  been  known 
to  make  them  into  neat  bundles,  in  paper  boxes,  tied  with 
string.  This  kindly  device  protects  the  helpless  creatures  from 
stray  dogs  and  allows  them  to  smother  or  starve  in  quiet. 

12  “ Penrod  and  Sam,”  p.  205. 

12  “ The  City  of  4,000,000  cats”;  “McClure’s  Magazine”;  May  1912. 

70 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

A short  and  easy  method  in  tenement  districts  is  simply  to 
open  the  window  and  toss  the  kittens  out.  A four-story  drop 
on  to  the  brick  pavement  or  area  spikes  is  commonly  a suffi- 
cient hint  to  an  intelligent  kitten  not  to  return.”  Cats  are 
thrown  off  church  towers  with  blown  bladders  attached  to  their 
necks,  killed  by  dogs,  thrown  into  barrels  with  dogs  to  fight, 
kicked  to  death,  drowned,  turned  alive  into  bakers’  ovens 
and  stoves,  thrown  into  lime,  their  heads  crunched  under  heels, 
tied  together  by  their  tails  and  hung  up.  In  Spain,  in  Gau- 
tier’s day,  it  was  the  custom  to  deprive  cats  of  their  ears  and 
their  tails,  giving  them  the  appearance  of  ” Japanese  chi- 
meras.” In  Havana,  I have  been  told,  urchins  enjoy  a 
merry  sport  which  entails  the  dipping  of  puss  into  a pail  of 
kerosene  and  a subsequent  ignition.  Then  the  comet-like  trail 
of  howling  fiery  fur  is  released.  In  1815,  just  before  the  de- 
parture of  Napoleon  for  St.  Helena,  a wag  perpetrated  a joke 
in  the  city  of  Chester.  Handbills  were  distributed  which  an- 
nounced that  the  island  was  overrun  with  rats  and  that  16  shill- 
ings would  be  paid  for  every  full-grown  tom  cat,  los.  for 
every  full-grown  female,  2s.  6d.  for  every  kitten.  On  the  day 
appointed  the  city  was  filled  with  men,  women,  and  children 
carrying  cats.  A riot  ensued  and  the  cats  escaped.  Several 
hundred  were  killed  and  many  others  drowned  while  the  re- 
mainder infested  neighbouring  houses  and  barns  for  many 
weeks  afterwards.^®  In  France  puss  is  undoubtedly  fre- 

In  the  early  editions  of  “ Marius  the  Epicurean  ” you  may  discover  this 
paragraph:  “ It  was  then  that  the  host’s  son  bethought  him  of  his  own  favourite 

animal,  which  had  offended  somehow,  and  had  been  forbidden  the  banquet, — 
‘I  mean  to  shut  you  in  the  oven  a while,  little  soft,  white  thing!  ’ he  had  said, 
catching  sight,  as  he  passed  an  open  doorway,  of  the  great  fire  in  the  kitchen, 
itself  festally  adorned,  where  the  feast  was  preparing;  and  had  so  finally  for- 
gotten it.  And  it  was  with  a really  natural  laugh,  for  once,  that,  on  opening 
the  oven,  he  caught  sight  of  the  animal’s  grotesque  appearance,  as  it  lay  there, 
half-burnt,  just  within  the  red-hot  iron  door.”  Mr.  Pater  removed  this  passage 
from  later  editions  of  this  book. 

16  “ Voyage  en  Espagne,”  p.  299.  . 

i®Phyfe:  “5,000  Facts  and  Fancies.” 

71 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

quently  eaten  as  rabbit.  Of  this  custom  I have  found  a 
brief  mention  in  a book,  the  name  of  the  unworthy  author 
of  which  I will  not  further  advertise.  A French  sailor  is 
speaking:  “Sometimes  we  have  rabbit  stew.  When  my 

sister  was  married  we  had  rabbit  stew.  For  weeks  before- 
hand we  caught  cats  on  the  roads,  in  the  fields,  in  the 
barns.  My  brother  caught  cats  and  I caught  cats,  and  my 
father  caught  cats;  we  all  caught  cats.  We  caught  forty  cats, 
perhaps  fifty  cats.  Some  were  toms,  some  were  females  with 
kittens  inside  them.  Some  were  black  and  some  were  white 
and  some  were  yellow  and  some  were  tabbies.  One  cat 
scratched  a big  gash  in  my  brother’s  face  and  he  bled.  Then 
we  locked  them  in  a room,  my  father  and  I.  . . . My  brother 
was  afraid  after  he  had  been  scratched.  . . . We  went  into 
the  room  with  cudgels  and  beat  about  us,  beat  the  cats  on 
the  head.  For  an  hour  we  chased  them  round  the  room  until 
all  the  cats  lay  dead  on  the  floor.  Flow  they  did  howl,  and 
screech,  and  fight,  but  we  were  a match  for  them.  Then  my 
brother  and  my  mother  skinned  the  cats  and  made  a magnifi- 
cent rabbit  stew  for  my  sister’s  wedding.”  One  of  the  ad- 
ventures of  that  arch-rogue.  Till  Eulenspiegel,  relates  how 
he  sewed  a cat  in  a hare’s  skin  and  sold  the  beast  to  some  fur- 
riers at  Leipsig.  Before  dining  on  its  carcass  the  merchants 
wished  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  hunt;  so  they  loosed  the 
animal  in  the  garden  and  set  the  dogs  after  it,  but  the  hare 
climbed  a tree  and  begun  to  mew,  whereupon,  of  course, 
Till’s  merry  prank  was  exposed  and  the  cat  was  killed. 

In  order  to  test  their  superior  theories  on  the  subject  of 
education  it  will  be  remembered  that  the  inimitable  Bouvard 
and  Pecuchet  experiment  with  a boy  and  a girl.  These  incor- 
rigible children  proceed  at  once,  of  course,  to  demolish  the 
theories.  One  of  Victor’s  horrible  exploits  entails  the  tor- 
ture of  a cat.  Hearing  the  screams  of  Marcel,  the  servant, 
Bouvard  and  Pecuchet  rush  to  the  kitchen. 

“ ‘ Take  him  away!  It’s  too  much  — ■ it’s  too  much!  ’ 

72 


'Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

“ The  lid  of  the  pot  flew  off  like  the  bursting  of  a shell.  A 
greyish  mass  bounded  towards  the  ceiling,  then  wriggled 
about  frantically,  emitting  fearful  yowls. 

“ They  recognized  the  cat,  quite  emaciated,  with  its  hair 
gone,  its  tail  like  a piece  of  string,  and  its  dilated  eyes  start- 
ing out  of  its  head.  They  were  as  white  as  milk,  vacant,  so 
to  speak,  and  yet  glaring. 

“ The  hideous  animal  continued  its  howling  till  it  flung  it- 
self into  the  fireplace,  disappeared,  then  rolled  back  in  the 
middle  of  the  cinders  lifeless. 

“ It  was  Victor  who  had  perpetrated  this  atrocity,  and  the 
two  worthy  men  recoiled,  pale  with  stupefaction  and  horror. 
To  the  reproaches  which  they  addressed  to  him,  he  replied, 
‘ Weill  since  it’s  my  own,’  without  ceremony  and  with  an  air 
of  innocence,  in  the  placidity  of  a satiated  instinct.” 

In  “ The  Brothers  Karamazoff  ” Dostoievsky  indicates  the 
malignance  of  Smerdyakoff  by  telling  us  that  in  his  childhood 
he  ” was  very  fond  of  hanging  cats,  and  burying  them  with 
great  ceremony.  He  used  to  dress  up  in  a sheet  as  though  it 
were  a surplice  and  sang,  and  waved  some  object  over  the 
dead  cat  as  though  it  were  a censer.”  In  an  extremely  bad 
book  called  “ Nightshade  ” the  malevolent  Dr.  Meisterlim- 
mer  flings  a cat  out  of  an  open  window  into  a courtyard. 
“ It  fell  four  storeys  and  broke  its  spine.  He  laughed  in  his 
own  hearty  fashion  to  see  it  dragging  itself  along  on  its  front 
paws  and  wailing.  . . .” 

At  least  one  cat  suffered  for  having  religious  convictions. 
George  Borrow  in  “ Wild  Wales  ” describes  this  poor  ani- 
mal left  behind  in  Llangollen  by  a former  vicar.  Nearly  all 
the  inhabitants  of  the  village  were  dissenters  and  they  re- 
fused to  harbour  the  beast,  nay  more  they  persecuted  it.  ” O, 
there  never  was  a cat  so  persecuted  as  that  poor  Church  of 
England  animal,  and  solely  on  account  of  the  opinions  which  it 

17  “ Nightshade,”  by  Paul  Gwynne;  Constable  and  Co.,  London,  1910;  p.  270. 

Chapter  VII. 


73 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

was  supposed  to  have  imbibed  in  the  house  of  its  late  master, 
for  I never  could  learn  that  the  dissenters  of  the  suburb,  nor 
indeed  of  Llangollen  in  general,  were  in  the  habit  of  persecut- 
ing other  cats;  the  cat  was  a Church  of  England  cat,  and  that 
was  enough : stone  it,  hang  it,  drown  it ! were  the  cries  of 
almost  everybody.  If  the  workmen  of  the  flannel  factory, 
all  of  whom  were  Calvinistic  Methodists,  chanced  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  it  in  the  road  from  the  windows  of  the  building, 
they  would  sally  forth  in  a body,  and  with  sticks,  stones,  or 
for  want  of  other  weapons,  with  clots  of  horse-dung,  of  which 
there  was  always  plenty  on  the  road,  would  chase  it  up  the 
high  bank  or  perhaps  over  the  Camlas  — the  inhabitants  of 
a small  street  between  our  house  and  the  factory  leading  from 
the  road  to  the  river,  all  of  whom  were  dissenters,  if  they 
saw  it  moving  about  the  perllan,  into  which  their  back  win- 
dows looked,  would  shriek  and  hoot  at  it,  and  fling  anything 
of  no  value,  which  came  easily  to  hand  at  the  head  or  body  of 
the  ecclesiastical  cat.”  The  reader  will  be  glad  to  learn  that 
Borrow  took  puss  in  hand,  cured  him  of  an  eruptive  disease, 
fed  him  until  he  was  sleek,  and  when  he  left  the  neighbour- 
hood gave  him  in  charge  to  a young  woman  of  “ sound 
church  principles.”  He  subsequently  learned  that  the  cat 
‘‘  continued  in  peace  and  comfort  till  one  morning  it  sprang 
suddenly  from  the  hearth  into  the  air,  gave  a mew  and  died.” 
On  vivisection,  although  undoubtedly  one  of  the  perils  of 
cat  life,  I have  no  intention  of  dwelling  here,  but  it  seems  an 
apt  point  to  speak  of  the  infernal  operations  of  Professor 
Mantegazza  of  Milan,  whose  “ Physiology  of  Love  ” is  more 
or  less  familiar  to  English  readers.  Professor  Mantegazza 
has  also  written  a ” Physiology  of  Pain,”  for  which  he  con- 
ducted experiments  ” with  much  delight  and  extreme  patience 
for  the  space  of  a year.”  There  is  no  necessity  of  rehears- 
ing the  sickening  details  of  this  fiendish  book  but  it  may  be 
stated  that  among  other  torments  the  Italian  devised  a ma- 

“ Fisiologia  del  Dolore,”  p.  loi. 


74 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

chine,  which  indeed  he  dubbed  a “ tormentor  ” in  which  little 
animals  which  had  first  been  “ quilted  with  long  thin  nails  ”so 
that  the  slightest  movement  was  agony,  were  wracked  with 
added  tortures,  torn  and  twisted,  crushed  and  lacerated,  hour 
after  hour.  “ In  the  august  name  of  Science,  animals  have 
been  subjected  to  burning,  baking,  freezing;  saturation  with 
inflammable  oil  and  then  setting  on  fire;  starvation  to  death; 
skinning  alive;  larding  the  feet  with  nails;  crushing  and  tor- 
menting in  every  imaginable  way.  Human  ingenuity  has  taxed 
itself  to  the  utmost  to  devise  some  new  torture,  that  one  may 
observe  what  curious  results  may  ensue.”  There  are  those 
who  defend  cats  in  trouble.  Octave  Mirbeau  describes  such 
a one  in  his  very  harrowing  story,  “ Le  Gardien  des  Vaches  ” 
in  which  a kitten  is  tortured  but  the  torturer  in  turn  meets  his 
death.  What,  one  wonders,  would  the  author  of  “ Le  Jardin 
des  Supplices  ” have  written  about  Mantegazza  ? 

There  are  further  the  bird-lovers,  some  of  whom  are  so  rab- 
idly hysterical  on  the  subject  of  cats  that  they  would  have  them 
all  destroyed.-^  About  the  mere  sentimentalists  who  protest 
against  the  cruelty  of  the  cat  I have  nothing  to  add  to  my  re- 
marks in  the  second  chapter  of  this  book.  It  is  natural  for  a 
cat  to  kill  birds;  the  cat  is  carnivorous  and,  like  the  Follies 
girls,  he  finds  a bird  particularly  tasty.  Some  cats  enjoy  hunt- 
ing for  its  own  sake  and  kill  many  birds  they  do  not  eat.  Per- 
sian cats,  because  of  their  value,  are  usually  kept  in  semi-cap- 
tivity and  may  therefore  be  ruled  out  of  the  discussion. 

The  majority  of  those  who  write  against  the  cat  as  a bird- 
hunter  give  the  question  an  economic  twinge.  This  is  an 
old  dodge  of  reformers,  a tried  and  true  formula  of  the  uplift, 
and  it  almost  always  is  efficacious  in  stirring  up  a certain  kind 

20  Albert  Leffingwell,  M.  D.:  “Vivisection  in  America”  in  Henry  S.  Salt’s 
book,  “Animals’  Rights”;  Macmillan  and  Co.,  New  York,  1894. 

2t  In  the  volume  entitled  “La  Vache  Tachetee,”  p.  40. 

22  In  1897  there  was  founded  in  Westphalia  the  Antikatzenverein,  the  avowed 
object  of  which  was  war  against  the  cat. 

7S 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

of  public  interest.  In  this  instance  these  gentlemen  assert 
that  the  birds  free  the  farm  vegetation  of  grubs  and  that  the 
cat  in  destroying  the  birds  helps  to  destroy  farm  produce. 
This  is  all  very  well  but  I have  never  thought  that  the  object 
of  a scare-crow  was  to  frighten  cats  and  I have  seen  an  entire 
cherry-tree  denuded  of  its  fruit  in  a morning  by  a flock  of 
birds. It  is  pleasant  to  remember  that  Mr.  Darwin  has  a 
curious  speculation  as  to  how  a scarcity  of  cats  in  a rural  dis- 
trict would  soon  affect  the  neighbouring  vegetation  as  the  field 
animals  and  birds  they  prey  on  would,  of  course,  proportion- 
ately increase  and  their  greater  numbers  tell  on  vegetable  life. 

When  Calvin,  Charles  Dudley  Warner’s  exceptional  cat, 
first  brought  in  a bird,  Mr.  Warner  told  him  that  it  was 
wrong,  “ and  tried  to  convince  him,  while  he  was  eating 
it,  that  he  was  doing  wrong;  for  he  is  a reasonable  cat,  and 
understands  pretty  much  everything  except  the  binomial 
theorem  and  the  time  down  the  cycloidal  arc.  But  with  no 
effect.  The  killing  of  birds  went  on  to  my  great  regret  and 
shame.”  However  one  day  when  he  found  the  pea-pods 
empty  and  the  strawberry  bed  raped  of  fruit  Mr.  Warner  had 
a change  of  heart.  He  called  Calvin  and  petted  him.  “ I 
lavished  upon  him  an  enthusiastic  fondness.  I told  him  that 
he  had  no  fault;  that  the  one  action  that  I had  called  a vice 
was  an  heroic  exhibition  of  regard  for  my  interests.  I bade 
him  go  and  do  likewise  continually.  I now  saw  how  much 
better  instinct  is  than  mere  misguided  reason.  Calvin 
knew.  ...  It  was  only  the  round  of  Nature.  The  worms 
eat  a noxious  something  in  the  ground.  The  birds  eat  the 
worms.  Calvin  eats  the  birds.  We  eat  — no,  we  do  not  eat 
Calvin.  There  the  chain  stops.  When  you  ascend  the  scale 

23  The  bird-lovers  occasionally  give  themselves  away.  In  an  article  in 
“Bird-Lore,”  May  1918,  William  Brewster  tells  how  he  frightened  chipmunks 
away  from  his  tulips  and  starlings  from  his  cherries  with  a stuffed  maltese  and 
white  pussy  with  glaring  yellow  eyes.  The  starlings,  however,  soon  were  privy 
to  the  deception  and  continued  their  depredations. 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

of  being,  and  come  to  an  animal  that  is,  like  ourselves.  Inedible, 
you  have  arrived  at  a result  where  you  can  rest.  Let  us 
respect  the  cat.  He  completes  an  edible  chain.”  It  is 
pleasant  to  recall  that  most  literary  chapters  on  the  cat  are  in 
a similar  vein;  even  that  great  bird-lover,  Olive  Thorne 
Miller,  inserted  a highly  laudatory  chapter  on  the  cat,  the 
common,  out-door  cat  at  that.  In  one  of  her  bird  books. The 
malignant  cat-haters.  In  print,  are  usually  commissioners  or 
superintendents.  They  very  frequently  become  feverish  and 
sometimes  even  foam  at  the  mouth.  One,  for  instance,  speaks 
of  a blood-thirsty  house-bred  kitten  who  had  never  seen  a bird, 
crouching  and  preparing  to  spring  at  a phonograph  which  was 
negotiating  a nightingale’s  song.“®  I can  duplicate  this  story. 
Aeroplanes  frequently  fly  past  my  garret  window  and  when 
they  do  Feathers  Invariably  manifests  the  liveliest  emotion, 
rushes  to  the  window,  gives  her  hunting  cry;  her  hair  bristles 
and  she  prepares  to  spring. 

Nature,  as  Joseph  Conrad,  Thomas  Hardy,  Anatole  France, 
James  Branch  Cabell,  and  some  others  have  discovered,  seldom 
rejects  an  opportunity  to  be  ironic.  It  should  therefore  sur- 
prise no  one  to  learn  that  a bird  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
enemies  of  the  cat.  The  eagle  swoops  from  the  skies,  seizes 
the  cat  along  his  spine  with  its  terrible  claws,  mangles  his 
head  with  its  beak  the  while  it  flaps  its  gaunt  and  terrifying 
wings  and  bears  the  little  beast  aloft.  A keeper  in  the  eagle 
house  at  a London  zoological  garden  informed  Dr.  Louis 
Robinson  that  when  the  eagles  were  off  their  food  he  offered 
them  cats.  “ If  they  won’t  eat  cats  they  are  about  to  die,” 
he  said. 

Another  of  the  most  Inveterate  and  selfish  enemies  of  the 

24  “ My  Summer  in  a Garden.” 

25  “ Upon  the  Tree-Tops.” 

28  T.  G.  Pearson:  “Cats  and  Birds”  in  “The  Art  World,”  May  1917.  I 
wonder  if  Mr.  Pearson  knows  that  game-keepers  in  England  sometimes  kill 
nightingales  because  their  singing  keeps  the  pheasants  awake? 

27  “Wild  Traits  in  Tame  Animals.” 


77 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

cat  is  the  supposed  friend  who  goes  to  Palm  Beach  in  the 
winter  or  Lake  Placid  in  the  summer  and  leaves  puss  alone 
in  the  city  to  shift  for  himself,  or  the  tender-hearted  lady  who 
says,  “ I just  can’t  bear  to  drown  those  sweet  kittens.”  So 
she  takes  the  unweaned  babies  away  from  their  mother  and 
leaves  them  in  some  public  garden  where  they  will  meet  a 
cruel  death  at  the  hands  of  boys  or  the  jaws  of  dogs,  and  the 
mother  cat  suffers  not  only  from  the  loss  of  her  offspring  but 
from  a milk  disease  as  well.^® 

It  is  quite  a cheering  thought  to  realize  that  cats  sometimes 
hate  as  keenly  as  people,  that  they  too  contrive  their  little 
revenges  and  Sicilian  vendettas  whereby  they  may  in  some 
small  degree  compensate  for  the  insults  doled  out  to  their  race. 
A familiar  Irish  story  has  it  that  a man  once  severely  chastised 
a cat  for  some  misdemeanour,  after  which  the  feline  disap- 
peared. A few  days  later  the  man  met  the  cat  in  a narrow 
path.  The  animal  glared  at  him  with  a wicked  aspect  and 
when  he  endeavoured  to  frighten  her  away,  she  sprang  at  him, 
fastening  herself  to  his  hand  with  so  ferocious  a grip  that 
it  was  impossible  to  make  her  open  her  jaws  and  the  creature’s 
head  actually  had  to  be  severed  from  her  body  before  the 
hand  could  be  extricated.  The  man  afterwards  died  from 
his  injuries.  Variations  of  this  theme  have  appeared  in  fic- 
tion. In  Frederick  Stuart  Greene’s  story,  ‘‘  The  Cat  of  the 
Cane-brake,”  the  feline  revenges  himself  upon  a woman 
who  had  mistreated  him  by  dragging  a rattle-snake  to  her 
bed  and  placing  it  on  her  chest.  Nor  must  we  forget  the 
eccentric  Mr.  Wilde’s  cat  in  Robert  W.  Chambers’s  story, 
” The  Repairer  of  Reputations.”  In  her  first  appearance 
in  the  tale  she  attacks  the  ugly  dwarf:  “ Before  I could  move 

she  flattened  her  belly  to  the  ground,  crouched,  trembled,  and 

28  I know  of  a case  of  this  kind  in  which  a friendly  older  cat  suckled  the 
mother  until  her  milk  disappeared. 

29  “ The  Metropolitan  Magazine”;  August  1916. 

20  “The  King  in  Yellow.” 


78 


THE  BLACK  CAT 

From  a drawing  by  Aubrey  Beardsley  to  ilhtsfrafe  Poe’s  story,  published  in  a large  paper 
edition  of  Tales  of  ilystery  and  Wonder,  by  Stone  and  Kimball;  Chicago;  jSgj 


Ailurophobes  and  Other  Cat-Haters 

sprang  into  his  face.  Howling  and  foaming  they  rolled  over 
and  over  on  the  floor,  scratching  and  clawing,  until  the  cat 
screamed  and  fled  under  the  cabinet,  and  Mr.  Wilde  turned 
over  on  his  back,  his  limbs  contracting  and  curling  up  like  the 
legs  of  a dying  spider.”  On  a later  occasion  Mr.  Wilde  is 
discovered  “ groaning  on  the  floor,  his  face  covered  with 
blood,  his  clothes  torn  to  shreds.  Drops  of  blood  were 
scattered  over  the  carpet,  which  had  also  been  ripped  and 
frayed  in  the  evidently  recent  struggle.  ‘ It’s  that  cursed 
cat.’  he  said,  ceasing  his  groans,  and  turning  his  colourless  eyes 
to  me,  ‘ she  attacked  me  while  I was  asleep.  I believe  she  will 
kill  me  yet.’  ” Mr.  Wilde  was  perfectly  right;  the  cat  did 
kill  him. 

In  Poe’s  tale,  “ The  Black  Cat  ” it  will  be  recalled  that  the 
protagonist  has  persistently  maltreated  a black  cat  named 
Pluto,  who  in  the  end  is  responsible  for  handing  his  master 
over  to  the  police  as  the  murderer  of  his  wife.  Two  old 
stories  offer  interesting  corroboration  of  this  fable.  One  re- 
lates how  a murder  had  been  committed  in  the  city  of  Lyons 
and  a physician  requested  to  inquire  into  the  particulars  con- 
cerning it.  Accordingly  he  went  to  the  home  of  the  murdered 
woman  where  he  found  her  dead  on  the  floor,  lying  in  a pool 
of  blood.  An  enormous  white  cat  surmounted  the  cupboard, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  corpse,  his  whole  bearing  indicative  of 
the  greatest  terror.  All  night  he  kept  watch  over  his  dead 
mistress.  The  following  morning,  when  the  room  was  filled 
with  soldiers,  he  still  maintained  his  position,  disregarding  the 
clanking  of  the  arms  and  the  noisy  conversation.  As  soon, 
however,  as  the  persons  under  suspicion  were  brought  in,  he 
glared  at  them  with  particular  malignancy,  and  then  retreated 
under  the  bed.  From  this  moment  the  prisoners  began  to 
lose  their  audacity  and  subsequently  they  confessed  to  the 

In  “The  Street  of  the  Four  Winds”  (also  in  “The  King  in  Yellow”)  Mr. 
Chambers  introduces  us  to  a charming  white  cat  as  an  antidote  to  his  previous 
monster. 


79 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

murder  and  were  convicted.®^  A similar  story  is  to  be  found 
in  the  autobiography  of  Miss  Cornelia  Wright:^®  “An  old 
woman  died  a few  years  ago.  She  had  a nephew,  to  whom  she 
left  all  she  possessed.  She  had  a favourite  cat,  which  never 
left  her,  and  even  remained  by  the  corpse  after  death.  The 
nephew  was  a lawyer,  and  while  he  was  reading  the  will  after 
the  funeral  the  cat  remained  restlessly  outside  the  door  of  the 
room,  apparently  adjoining  that  in  which  the  old  lady  died. 
When  the  door  was  opened  the  cat  sprang  at  the  lawyer,  seized 
him  by  the  throat,  and  was  with  difficulty  prevented  from 
strangling  him.  The  man  died  about  eighteen  months  later 
and  on  his  deathbed  confessed  that  he  had  murdered  his  aunt 
to  obtain  possession  of  her  money.”  Edward  Jesse  relates 
a tale  he  had  from  a man  who  was  sentenced  to  transporta- 
tion for  robbery.  He  and  two  other  thieves  had  broken  into 
the  home  of  a gentleman  who  lived  near  Hampton  Court. 
While  they  were  gathering  their  plunder  in  sacks  a large  black 
cat  flew  at  one  of  the  robbers  and  fixed  her  claws  in  his  face. 

We  must  not  forget  the  old  nursery  rhyme: 

I love  little  pussy. 

Her  coat  is  so  warm; 

And  if  I don’t  hurt  her 
She’ll  do  me  no  harm. 

The  cat,  unlike  the  dog,  refuses  to  return  good  for  evil,  or  to 
turn  the  right  cheek  when  struck  upon  the  left.  These  re- 
venges, however,  are  extreme.  A cat  usually  flees  a persecutor 
or  ignores  him.  But  it  is  amusing  to  remember  that  this  is 
the  animal  the  dog-lover  sometimes  calls  ungrateful! 

“ Dictionnaire  d’anecdotes  ” ; 1820;  Vol.  2,  p.  274. 

33  “ Autobiography  of  Miss  Cornelia  Wright,  lady  companion  to  the  Princess 
Charlotte  of  Wales,”  two  volumes,  1861;  W.  H.  Allen  and  Co.;  London. 

3*  “ Gleanings  in  Natural  History”;  London;  1838. 


80 


Chapter  Four:  Fhe  Cat  and  the  Occult 

Notre  dame  la  Lune  blonde 
Est  la  patronne  des  tons  chats. 

Elle  preside  a I ears  ebats 
Avec  sa  grosse  pace  ronde, 

Quand  le  vent  siffle  un  air  de  ronde, 

Elle  rit  a leurs  entrechats. 

Notre  dame  la  Lune  blonde 
Est  la  patronne  des  bons  chats. 

Mais  quand,  apres  de  long  pourchas, 

Folle  d’amour,  la  bande  gronde, 

Elle  se  voile  et  cache  au  monde 
Le  mystere  impur  des  Sabbats 
Notre  dame  la  Lune  blonde. 

Raoul  Gineste. 

The  mystical  character  of  the  cat  has  challenged  attention, 
delighting  her  admirers  and  terrifying  her  detractors,  since 
she  strolled  rather  suddenly  and  magnificently  into  history 
about  1600  B.  c.  Her  origin  Itself  Is  veiled  in  the  deepest 
mystery,  for  those  who  believe  her  to  be  a gentle  descendant 
of  some  tamed  wild  cat  must  overlook  the  fact  that  of  all 
terrestrial  beasts  the  wild  cat  of  today  most  persistently  and 
ferociously  resists  all  attempts  at  domestication,  ‘‘  Peut-etre 
est-il  fee,  est  il  dieii,”  writes  Baudelaire  of  puss,  and  again  the 
French  poet  speaks  of  the  chat  mysterieux,  chat  seraphique, 
chat  Strange.”  A writer  In  the  “ Occult  Review  ” Informs  us 
that  cats  have  green  auras  and  assures  us  that  they  are  the 
most  magnetic  of  quadrupeds.  Sir  Walter  Scott  once  ob- 

81 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

served  to  Washington  Irving,  “Ah!  cats  are  a mysterious 
kind  of  folk.  There  is  more  passing  in  their  minds  than  we 
are  aware  of.  It  comes  no  doubt  from  their  being  so  familiar 
with  warlocks  and  witches.”  Sir  Walter,  however,  reversed 
cause  and  effect.  Warlocks  and  witches  are  familiar  with 
cats  because  cats  are  occult.  Their  tread  is  soft  and  noiseless. 
They  leap  lightly,  and  apparently  blindly  to  the  top  of  a high- 
boy littered  with  glass  and  china  without  disturbing  an  element 
in  this  brittle  composition.  The  pupils  of  their  eyes,  wide 
open,  vary  with  the  light;  in  China  it  has  sometimes  been  the 
fashion  to  tell  the  time  of  day  by  them;  in  Suffolk  cats’  eyes  are 
popularly  supposed  to  dilate  with  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide. 
Madame  Michelet  asserts  that  it  is  their  very  transparence, 
their  clearness,  which  gives  these  eyes  their  mystery,  these  wide 
open  eyes  which  see  on  and  beyond,  which  stare  in  an  ecstatic 
gnostic  gaze  which  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  begging  or 
reproachful  eyes  of  a dog.  At  night  these  eyes  glisten  and 
shine  in  the  dark.  Maister  Salmon,  who  writes  of  puss  in  his 
“ Compleat  English  Physician,”  published  in  1693,  seems  to 
be  sufficiently  bewildered:  “ As  to  its  Eyes,  Authors  say  that 

they  shine  in  the  Night;  and  see  better  at  the  full,  and  more 
dimly  at  the  change  of  the  Moon.  Also  that  the  Cat  doth 
vary  his  Eyes  with  the  Sun;  the  Pupil  being  round  at  Sunrise, 
and  long  towards  the  Noon,  and  not  to  be  seen  at  all  at  Night, 
but  the  whole  Eye  shining  in  the  darkness.  These  appear- 
ances of  the  Cat’s  Eyes,  I am  sure  are  true;  but  whether  they 
answer  to  the  times  of  Day,  I have  never  observed.”  The 
half-shut  lids  are  even  more  suggestive  and  significant  of 
strange  thaumaturgic  powers.  They  can  be  feral,  too,  these 
eyes,  a fact  that  Prosper  Merimee  has  recorded  in  “ 'Carmen  ” : 
“ Eye  of  a gipsy,  eye  of  a wolf  is  a Spanish  proverb  which 
signifies  acute  observation.  If  you  have  not  the  time  to  go  to 
the  zoological  gardens  to  study  the  stare  of  a wolf,  look  at 
your  cat  when  he  lies  in  wait  for  a sparrow.”  The  fur  har- 
bours electricity  and  sends  swift  currents  of  this  lightning  up 

82 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

the  arm  of  him  who  strokes  the  animal.  Sometimes,  alone 
with  a cat  in  the  dead  silences  of  the  night,  I have  watched 
the  creature’s  eyes  suddenly  dilate,  her  ears  point  back;  with 
arched  spine  a startling,  unexpected,  unexplained  prance  across 
the  floor  follows;  then  puss  settles  back  again  to  laundry  and 
repose  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  What  has  happened? 
What  has  awakened  this  fit  of  wildness?  Is  it  some  noise 
unheard  by  humans,  an  unwelcome  smell,  or  some  reminiscence 
of  the  terrible  mediaeval  nights  when  the  cat  joined  the  witch 
in  her  broom-stick  trails  across  the  face  of  the  moon? 

The  cat  walks  by  herself,  retains  her  pride,  her  dignity,  her 
reserve,  keeps  the  secret  of  the  ciborium,  and  gives  no  sign  of 
the  cupellations  she  has  witnessed  in  alchemystical  garrets. 
She  is  perverse,  refuses  to  be  “ put  ” anywhere,  often  takes 
delight  in  manifesting  her  affection  for  some  one  who  has  an  in- 
herent dislike  for  her,  while  she  frequently  ignores  an  admirer. 
“ You  never  get  to  the  bottom  of  cats,”  says  a writer  in  “ All 
the  Year  Round.”  ” You  will  never  find  two,  well  known  to 
you,  that  do  not  offer  marked  diversities  in  ways  and  disposi- 
tions, and,  in  general,  the  combination  they  exhibit  of  activity 
and  repose,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  they  pass  from  one  to 
the  other,  their  gentle  aspects  and  fragile  forms,  united  with 
strength  and  pliancy,  their  sudden  appearances  and  disappear- 
ances, their  tenacity  of  life  and  many  escapes  from  dangers, 
their  silent  and  rapid  movements,  their  sometimes  unaccoun- 
table gatherings,  and  strange  noises  at  night  — all  contribute 
to  invest  them  with  a mysterious  fascination,  which  reaches 
its  culminating  point  in  the  (not  very  frequent)  case  of  a com- 
pletely black  cat.” 

Is  it  wonderful  that  these  qualities  have  served  to  cause  her 
to  be  worshipped  as  a god,  or  reviled  as  a demon?  Animals 
not  infrequently  play  important  roles  in  mythology  and  enter 
into  the  elements  of  religion,  but  no  other  animal,  it  would 
seem,  is  so  intimately  bound  with  the  arcane  rites  of  several 
ages  as  the  cat,  waited  upon  by  the  priests  of  Egypt,  the 

83 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

“ familiar  ” of  witches  in  the  middle  ages,  the  companion  of 
Saint  Ives  and  Saint  Gertrude,  “ gentlest  of  mystics,”  in  Sicily 
sacred  to  St.  Martha,  the  friend  of  Mohammed,  the  time-piece 
of  China,  and  the  weather-vane  of  Scotland  and  England;  puss 
saunters  with  noiseless  pads,  through  the  folklore  and  legends 
of  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa,  now  petted,  now  hated  or  feared, 
now  regarded  with  awe  or  horror,  now  with  tenderness  and 
veneration. 

The  cat  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Bible, ^ a fact  which  offers 
consolation  to  many  dog-lovers,  and  her  name  appears  only 
once  in  the  Apocrypha. “ The  allusion  is  significant.  We 
learn  that  a cat  may  not  only  look  at  a king,  she  is  also  per- 
mitted to  sit  on  a god’s  head.  Painters  of  Biblical  scenes 
have  evidently  regarded  puss’s  omission  as  an  oversight  or  an 
impertinent  perversion  and  they  have  put  her  into  their  pictures 
while  an  old  Arabian  legend  connects  her  creation  with  the 
story  of  the  ark.  According  to  this  charming  folk-tale  the 
pair  of  mice  originally  installed  on  board  this  boat  increased 
and  multiplied  to  such  an  extent  that  life  was  rendered  un- 
bearable for  the  other  occupants,  whereupon  Noah  passed  his 
hand  three  times  over  the  head  of  the  lioness  and  she  oblig- 
ingly sneezed  forth  the  cat.  Another  oriental  story  which 
obtained  wide  credence  has  it  that  the  first  day  the  animals 
entered  the  ark  they  rested  quietly  in  their  state-rooms.  The 
first  to  venture  forth  was  the  monkey  who  persuaded  the 
lioness  to  forget  her  vows  of  fidelity.  The  result  of  this 
initial  transgression  of  natural  laws  was  not  only  the  birth  of 
the  cat  but  also,  the  old  author  assures  us,  ” the  spreading  of 

1 “ In  the  illuminated  manuscript  known  as  Queen  Mary’s  Psalter  (1553)  there 
is  a picture  of  the  Fall  of  Man,  in  which  there  is  a modification  of  the  idea  which 
gained  wide  currency  during  the  middle  ages  that  it  was  the  serpent-woman, 
Lilith,  who  had  tempted  Adam  to  eat  the  forbidden  fruit.  In  this  picture,  while 
the  beautiful  grace  and  ample  hair  of  Lilith  are  shown,  instead  of  the  usual 
female  breast  she  has  the  body  of  a cat.”  Moncure  Daniel  Conway:  “Demon- 
ology and  Devil-lore,”  Vol.  II,  p.  301. 

2 Baruch,  VI,  22. 


84 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

a spirit  of  coquetry  which  endured  during  the  whole  of  the 
sojourn  the  animals  made  there.”  Still  another  story  is  re- 
lated by  Pierre  Palliot  in  “ La  vraye  et  parfaicte  science  des 
armoires  ” (Paris;  1664)  : “The  cat  is  more  harmiful  than 

useful,  its  caresses  are  more  to  be  dreaded  than  desired,  and 
its  bite  is  fatal.  The  cause  of  the  pleasure  it  gives  us  is 
strange  and  entertaining.  At  the  moment  of  the  creation  of 
the  world,  says  the  fable,  the  Sun  and  the  Moon  emulated 
each  other  in  peopling  the  earth  with  animals.  The  Sun,  great, 
fiery,  and  luminous,  formed  the  lion,  beautiful,  sanguinary, 
and  generous.  The  Moon,  seeing  the  other  gods  in  admira- 
tion before  this  noble  work,  caused  a cat  to  come  forth  from 
the  earth,  but  one  as  disproportionate  to  the  lion  in  beauty  and 
courage  as  she  (the  Moon)  is  to  her  brother  (the  Sun) . This 
contention  gave  rise  to  derision,  and  also  Indignation  on  the 
part  of  the  Sun,  who,  being  angry  that  the  Moon  should  have 
attempted  to  match  herself  with  him, 

Crea  par  forme  de  mepris 

En  meme  temps  une  souris. 

As,  however,  ‘ the  sex  ’ never  surrenders,  the  Moon  made 
herself  still  more  ridiculous  by  producing  the  most  absurd  of 
all  animals,  the  monkey.  This  creature  was  received  by  the 
company  of  stars  with  a burst  of  immoderate  laughter.  A 
flame  spread  itself  over  the  face  of  the  Moon,  even  as  when 
she  threatens  us  with  a tempest  of  great  winds,  and  by  a last 
effort,  in  order  to  be  eternally  revenged  upon  the  Sun,  she  set 
undying  enmity  between  the  monkey  and  the  cat,  and  between 
the  cat  and  the  mouse.  Hence  comes  the  sole  advantage 
which  we  derive  from  the  cat.” 

The  cat  was  known  in  Egypt  at  least  1600  years  before  the 
birth  of  Christ,  as  certain  tablets  prove.  Bast  or  Pasht  was 
the  cat  goddess,  worshipped  at  Bubastes,  and  it  is  from  this 
name  that  certain  wise  philologists  wish  to  derive  the  word, 
puss;  still  others  like  to  think  it  comes  from  the  Latin,  pusus, 

85 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

little  boy,  or  pusa,  little  girl.  Herodotus  informs  us  that 
Pasht  occupied  a similar  position  among  the  Egyptians  to  that 
of  Artemis  among  the  Greeks;  this  was  the  Diana  of  the 
Romans.  Diana,  indeed,  assumed  the  form  of  a cat,  when 
Typhon  forced  the  gods  and  goddesses  to  hide  themselves  In 
animal  shapes.  There  is  also  a connection  with  the  Norse 
goddesses,  Freyja,  the  Teutonic  Venus,  whose  chariot  was 
drawn  by  cats,  and  Helda,  who  was  accompanied  by  maidens 
on  cats  or  themselves  distinguished  In  feline  form.  Pasht  was 
the  goddess  of  light,  but  more  than  Diana,  of  both  the  moon 
and  sun.  The  Egyptian  word  man  signified  both  light  and  cat. 
Moreover  the  sun-god  Ra  was  frequently  referred  to  as  The 
Great  Cat.  Puss  prefers  the  moon;  the  Hindu  poet  says, 
“ The  cat  laps  the  moonbeams  In  the  bowl  of  water,  thinking 
them  to  be  milk.”  Diana  was  also  the  goddess  of  wisdom, 
hunting,  and  chastity.  Wise  and  a huntress  the  cat  certainly 
is,  but  chaste,  never!  ^ 

Vulson  de  la  Colombiere,  whose  science  was  heraldry,  in  the 
“ Livre  de  la  science  heroique,”  speaks  quaintly  of  the  cat’s 
relation  to  the  moon  : “ Comme  le  lion  est  iin  animal  solitaire, 

aussi  le  chat  est  une  hete  liinatique,  dont  les  yeux,  clairvoyants 
et  etincelants  diirant  les  plus  obscures  nuits,  croissent  et 
decroissent  a Vimitation  de  la  lune;  car,  comme  la  lune,  selon 
qidelle  participe  a la  lumiere  du  soleil,  change  tons  les  jours 
de  face,  ainsi  le  chat  est  touche  de  pareille  affection  envers  la 
lune,  sa  prunelle  croissant  et  diminuant  au  meme  temps  que 
cet  astre  est  en  son  croissant  ou  en  son  decours.  Plusieurs 
naturalistes  assurent  que,  lorsque  la  lune  est  en  son  plein,  les 
chats  ont  plus  de  force  et  d'adresse  pour  faire  la  guerre  aux 
souris  que  lorsqid elle  est  faible!  ” 

The  Egyptians  shaved  their  eyebrows  and  went  into  mourn- 

® But  Professor  W.  M.  Conway  says  in  “The  Cats  of  Ancient  Egypt”  (“  Eng- 
lish Illustrated  Magazine”;  Vol.  7,  p.  251):  “Pasht  for  her  part  was  lady  of 
love  and  corresponded  in  a crude  sort  of  way  to  that  much  nobler  conception, 
the  Aphrodite  of  the  Greeks.”  Freyja,  of  course,  was  an  amorous  goddess. 

86 


AN  EGYPTIAN  BRONZE  HEAD  OF  A CAT 
Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art 


f 


- ilr.- 
••V- 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

ing  when  a cat  died  and  the  penalty  for  killing  a cat  was  very 
severe.  As  any  one  who  witnessed  a feline  death  scene  was 
often  suspected  of  murder,  Egyptian  citizens  took  care  to  be 
as  far  away  as  possible  on  such  occasions,  not  a very  difficult 
precautionary  measure,  one  would  believe,  because  pussy’s  in- 
stinct is  to  conceal  herself  when  she  is  sick,  as  she  is  unable  to 
confront  her  enemies  in  that  condition.  G.  A.  Henty  has 
chosen  as  the  central  episode  for  his  story,  “ The  Cat  of 
Bubastes,”  the  dilemma  of  an  Egyptian  who  was  inadvertently 
responsible  for  a cat’s  death.  Cats  were  painted  in  fresco, 
sculptured  in  stone,  and  even  mummified  after  death.  The 
countless  examples  of  these  mummies  in  contemporary  museums 
bear  silent  witness  to  the  veneration  in  which  the  animal  was 
held.  There  were  several  methods  of  embalming  in  use  among 
the  Egyptians.  Of  these  only  the  most  elaborate  has  left  its 
record.  The  working  classes  might  have  their  bodies  soaked 
in  an  antiseptic  mixture  and  so  preserved  for  a time,  but  it 
was  the  privilege  of  kings  and  rulers  alone  to  have  their  bodies 
imbued  with  costly  drugs  and  sweet  spices  and  to  lie  unchanged 
in  their  tombs  for  thousands  of  years  until  their  mummied 
remains  were  removed  from  their  long  repose.  . . . The 
privilege  which  was  denied  the  workingman  was  granted  to 
the  cat.^ 

* “ But  the  ghost  or  double  of  a body  (in  ancient  Egypt)  had  to  have  a ma- 
terial something  to  be  the  double  of.  The  actual  body  was  of  course  best;  second 
best  was  an  image  of  it  made  in  some  lasting  substance.  Hence  arose  mummi- 
fication to  preserve  the  body,  and  portrait  sculpture  to  replace  it  if  destroyed. 
In  later  times  a wealthy  Egyptian  was  often  buried  with  no  less  than  some  hun- 
dreds of  little  images  in  the  shape  of  a mummy,  ticketed  with  his  name,  besides 
one  or  more  really  fine  portrait  statues  of  him.  Such  statues  were  called  Ka 
statues.  If  the  mummy  were  destroyed  the  Ka  could  still  be  kept  in  existence  by 
means  of  them.  . . . As  with  men,  so  with  cats;  they  too  had  their  Ka  and  all 
the  rest  of  it,  and  their  Ka  had  likewise  to  be  kept  from  annihilation  against  the 
great  day  of  resurrection  of  cats,  crocodiles  and  men.  A rich  man’s  cat  was 
elaborately  mummied,  wound  round  and  round  with  stuff  and  cunningly  plaited 
with  linen  ribbons  dyed  two  different  colours.  His  head  was  encased  in  a rough 
kind  of  papier  mache,  and  that  was  covered  with  linen  and  painted,  even  gilt 
sometimes,  the  ears  always  carefully  pricked  up.  The  mummy  might  be  enclosed 

87 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

The  fact  that  mummied  mice  have  been  discovered  in  the  cat 
tombs  has  puzzled  some  scientists.  But  in  the  royal  tombs 
food  was  always  provided  for  the  mummied  ruler;  what  more 
natural  than  to  provide  food  for  the  mummied  cat!  . . . We 
may  better  understand  this  worship  of  the  cat  if  we  know  some- 
thing of  animal  symbolism  and  credit  the  priests  of  Egypt 
with  having  known  more  than  we  do.  It  is  well  also  to  bring 
forward  the  testimony  of  Professor  Maspero  who  is  of  the 
opinion  that  the  worship  of  cats  among  the  lower  middle  classes 
of  Egypt  was  largely  adoration  of  the  cat  herself,  not  of  the 
official  god  incarcerated  in  the  animal.  In  support  of  this 
belief  he  describes  certain  stelae  in  the  museum  of  Turin.  On 
one,  belonging  to  the  age  of  the  eighteenth  dynasty,  huge 
figures  of  a cat  and  a swallow  are  painted  with  a table  of  offer- 
ings before  them,  as  well  as  two  kneeling  scribes.  Accompany- 
ing phylacteries  state  that  these  offerings  are  to  the  “ good 
cat  ” and  “ good  swallow,”  not  to  any  of  the  state  gods  hidden 
under  these  forms.  Further  it  must  be  taken  for  granted  that 
following  each  inundation  of  the  Nile  every  farm  became 
an  island  on  which  mice,  serpents,  and  insects  flourished,  from 
whose  depredations  the  farmer  depended  upon  the  cat  and  the 
ibis  to  free  him. 

I remember  a night  in  a villa  on  the  Florentine  hills,  a 

in  a bronze  box  with  a bronze  Ka  statue  of  the  cat  seated  on  the  top.  Even 
finer  burial  might  await  a particularly  grand  cat.  ...  A poor  man’s  cat  was 
rolled  up  in  a simple  lump,  but  the  rolling  was  carefully  and  respectfully  done.” 
W.  M.  Conway:  “The  Cats  of  Ancient  Egypt”:  “English  Illustrated  Maga- 
zine ” ; Vol.  7,  p.  251. 

“ The  cases  in  which  the  cats  were  placed  after  embalming  were  capital  rep- 
resentations of  the  cat  in  life.  Many  of  them  were  of  carven  wood,  remarkably 
lifelike  affairs,  the  form  and  even  the  individuality  and  expression  being  re- 
markably preserved.  . . . Some  of  the  cat  cases  are  curiously  decorated  and  some 
of  the  faces  are  fitted  with  queerly  made  eyes,  inlaid  with  obsidian,  or  rock 
crystal;  others  are  done  in  coloured  paste.”  W.  S.  Harwood:  “The  Mummifica- 
tion of  Cats  in  Ancient  Egypt”;  “Scientific  American”;  Vol.  82,  p.  361. 

Tliere  are  several  excellent  examples  of  cat  mummies,  wound  in  linen  of  two 
colours,  Ka  statues  in  bronze  and  faience,  and  bronze  enclosing  boxes  in  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  in  New  York. 


88 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

green  Florentine  night  ...  a dumb  curiosity  seized  two  of  us 
and  caused  us  to  leave  our  chairs  on  the  loggia  where  the  faint 
breeze  flickered  the  flames  of  the  Roman  lamps  and  the  tall 
bottles  of  golden  Strega  stood  half-filled,  to  mount  the  stairs, 
led  on  by  a nameless  questioning,  and  to  seek  the  chamber  di- 
rectly above  the  spot  where  we  had  been  sitting,  the  temporary 
abode  of  two  white  Persian  cats.  . . . The  room  was  empty 
when  we  entered;  the  bright  moonlight  streaming  in  from  the 
doorway  which  led  to  a terrace  which  formed  the  roof  of  the 
loggia  told  us  that.  Noiselessly,  and  apparently  unreason- 
ably, we  stole  carefully  across  the  broad  chamber  and  looked 
out.  ...  I can  still  see  the  expression  of  horror  on  my  com- 
panion’s face,  perhaps  reflected  on  my  own,  as  we  stood  just 
hidden  by  the  hangings  at  the  doorway  and  saw  the  two  cats 
softly  lift  their  paws  from  two  white  doves  who  rose  un- 
steadily, dizzily,  and  lazily  into  the  green  atmosphere,  while 
the  cats  rolled  on  their  backs,  stretching  their  claws  to  the 
air  and  making  faint  mews.  . . . Did  we  learn  why  the  hawk 
and  the  cat  sit  together  in  the  temples  of  the  Nile? 

We  lose  sight  of  the  cat  in  the  early  history  of  Greece  ® but 
that  does  not  prove  that  she  did  not  exist  during  this  civiliza- 
tion. Emily  James  Putnam,  in  her  ironic  book,  points  out 
that  the  lady  suffered  a similar  eclipse.  In  Rome  dogs  were 
not  permitted  in  the  Temple  of  Flercules  but  pussies  were  ad- 
mitted. Sacerdotal  cats  were  welcomed  even  in  the  adytum. 
The  priests  were  wise  to  make  a virtue  of  necessity;  it  is  im- 
possible to  exclude  cats  from  any  place  which  they  desire  to 
enter.  To  this  day  they  attend  Christian’  churches  of  any 
denomination  whenever  they  have  the  inclination.  In  Hone’s 
“ Every-day  Book  ” there  is  a reference  to  a curious  mediaeval 
custom,  for  which  credit  is  given  to  Mills’s  “ History  of  the 
Crusades:  ” “ At  Aix  in  Provence  on  the  festival  of  Corpus 

® Sir  George  Lewis  thought  he  had  proved  that  there  were  no  cats  in  Athens, 
but  a vase  of  the  best  period  represents  a cat  chasing  mice. 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Christ!,  the  finest  Tom  cat  of  the  country,  wrapped  like  a 
child  in  swaddling  clothes,  was  publicly  exhibited  in  a magnif- 
icent shrine.  Every  knee  was  bent,  every  hand  either  strewed 
flowers  or  poured  incense,  and,  in  short,  the  cat  on  this  occa- 
sion was  treated  in  all  respects  as  the  god  of  the  day.”  This 
curious  anecdote  has  found  wide  credence  and  has  been  re- 
peated in  most  of  the  cat  books.  A writer  in  the  Catholic 
periodical,  “ The  Month,”  however,  finds  little  to  believe  In  it.® 
According  to  this  savant.  King  Rene  of  Anjou  in  1472,  al- 
though they  had  been  in  existence  long  before  that,  formulated 
a definite  plan  for  the  games  of  this  day,  theatrical  interludes 
between  the  serious  religious  business.  Unfortunately  King 
Rene’s  manuscript  has  been  lost,  but  a full  account  of  the 
games,  with  curious  illustrations,  made  just  prior  to  the 
French  Revolution  when  the  Aix  procession  was  still  unshorn 
of  Its  splendour,  still  exists  and  it  is  from  that  that  the  writer 
in  ” The  Month  ” derives  his  information.  There  were, 
it  seems,  twelve  jeiix  and  the  cat  appeared  in  the  first  one, 
which  was  called,  indeed.  The  play  of  the  cat:  One  of  the 

performers  carried  a tall  staff  with  a gilt  image  of  a calf  on 
top  of  it,  round  it  were  grouped  some  of  the  Israelites,  while 
Moses,  easily  recognized  by  his  horns,  and  Aaron,  distin- 
guished by  his  breastplate,  stood  aloof  and  rebuked  them. 
However,  the  chief  subject  of  popular  interest  was  the  cat. 
How  he  came  to  be  introduced  Into  the  picture  we  can  only 
conjecture,  but  at  any  rate  there  he  was.  One  of  the  per- 
formers carried  poor  Tom  in  his  arms,  muffled  up  in  some  sort 
of  covering,  probably  to  keep  him  from  scratching.  As  the 
scene  proceeded  he  tossed  him  up  as  high  as  he  could  in  the  air, 
catching  him  again,  amid  the  plaudits  of  the  crowd,  with  more 
or  less  dexterity.  Gregolre’s  engraving  represents  the  cat  in 

® “ Cats  in  Catholic  Ritual”  (signed  H.  T.)  : “The  Month,”  Vol.  87,  p.  487; 
London,  1896.  This  writer  asserts  that  the  story  is  not  to  be  found  in  “The  His- 
tory of  the  Crusades.”  As  I have  not  read  this  book  I cannot  offer  corrobora- 
tion of  his  statement. 


90 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

the  act  of  being  tossed,  and  depicts  the  agonized  expression 
of  the  victim.  “ We  can  readily  understand  that  this  bit  of 
cruel  buffoonery  will  have  been  the  most  popular  feature  of 
the  procession,”  adds  the  Catholic  author,  ” but  we  can  only 
explain  the  presence  of  poor  pussy  by  supposing  that  besides  the 
golden  calf.  King  Rene  wished  to  suggest  that  the  Israelites 
had  also  remembered  something  of  the  animal  worship  of  the 
Egyptians.  At  any  rate  it  is  this  sense  and  this  sense  only 
that  the  inhabitants  and  priests  of  Aix  can  be  described  as 
paying  divine  honours  to  the  cat.” 

The  cat  seems  to  have  been  at  home  in  China  from  the  fifth 
century,  A.  D.,  and  she  was  introduced  into  Japan  from  China 
as  late  as  the  tenth  century.  In  both  these  countries  she 
generally  plays  a demonaic  and  reprehensible  part  in  legend 
and  folklore,  although  there  are  stories  about  cats  who  be- 
friended mortals.  Usually,  however,  she  steals  precious  ob- 
jects; she  has  the  pernicious  habit  of  producing  dancing  balls 
of  fire;  she  wraps  a towel  around  her  head  and  walks  the  roof- 
top on  her  hind  legs;  sometimes  she  grows  a forked  tail  and 
thereby  becomes  a nekomata.  When  she  is  ten  years  old 
she  begins  to  talk.  In  China  she  is  employed  by  old  women 
to  negotiate  obliquities;  in  Japan  she  destroys  these  beldams. 
Her  spiritual  strength  increases  with  age  and  she  is  able, 
if  she  attains  the  proper  number  of  years,  to  effect  certain 
transformations.  This  belief  finds  confirmation  in  European 
folklore  in  which  it  is  held  that  a cat  twenty  years  old  turns 
into  a witch,  and  a witch  a hundred  years  old  turns  back  into 
a cat.  Neverthless,  in  spite  of  the  animal’s  turpitudes,  the 
killing  of  a cat  was  a sin  for  which  a heavy  spiritual  penalty 
existed  in  Japan.  The  curse  of  the  beast  was  said  to  fall  not 
only  on  the  man  himself  but  on  his  family  to  the  seventh  gener- 
ation. Sometimes  the  cat  killed  the  culprit;  sometimes  she 
was  satisfied  to  haunt  him.  The  Persians  also  hesitate  before 
slaying  a cat  as  Djinns  or  Afreets  often  assume  feline  forms 
and  the  angry  evicted  demons  are  frequently  willing  to  spend 

91 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  rest  of  eternity  haunting  the  person  responsible  for  de- 
stroying their  dwellings.  In  Egypt  the  Arabs  believe  that  a 
Djinn  takes  the  form  of  a cat  when  he  wishes  to  haunt  a 
house  and  the  last  born  of  twins  is  capable,  in  order  to  satisfy 
her  desires,  of  turning  herself  into  a cat.  A traveller  who 
had  killed  a cat  for  making  ravages  in  his  storehouse  at  Luxor 
was  visited  next  day  by  a neighbouring  apothecary  who  begged 
him  to  kill  no  more  cats.  “ My  daughter,”  he  explained, 
“ often  visits  you  in  the  form  of  a cat  to  eat  your  dessert.” 
There  is  further  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis  to  consider. 
There  was  a belief  held  in  China  that  one  became  a cat  after 
death.  This  belief  caused  the  mighty  Empress  Wu  to  forbid 
cats  entrance  to  her  palace  because  a court  lady,  whom  she  had 
cruelly  caused  to  be  put  to  death,  threatened  to  turn  Her 
Royal  Highness  into  a rat  and  tease  her  as  a spectre-cat. 
There  is  a story  in  the  “ Konjaku  Monogatari  ” of  a man  who 
was  terribly  afraid  of  cats,  probably  because  he  had  been  a 
rat  in  his  previous  existence.  This  belief  prevailed  in  India, 
too,  of  course.  General  Sir  Thomas  Edward  Gordon  in  “ A 
Varied  Life”  (1906)  tells  the  following  remarkable  story: 
“ For  twenty-five  years  an  oral  addition  to  the  written  stand- 
ing orders  of  the  native  guard  at  Government  House  near 
Poona  had  been  communicated  regularly  from  one  guard  to 
another  on  relief,  to  the  effect  that  any  cat  passing  out  of  the 
front  door  after  dark  was  to  be  regarded  as  His  Excellency, 
the  Governor,  and  to  be  saluted  accordingly.  The  meaning  of 
this  was  that  Sir  Robert  Grant,  Governor  of  Bombay,  had 
died  there  in  1838  and  on  the  evening  of  the  day  of  his  death 
a cat  was  seen  to  leave  the  house  by  the  front  door  and  walk 
up  and  down  a particular  path,  as  it  had  been  the  Governor’s 
habit  to  do  after  sunset.  A Hindu  sentry  had  observed  this, 
and  he  mentioned  it  to  the  others  of  his  faith,  who  made  it 
a subject  of  superstitious  conjecture,  the  result  being  that  one 
of  the  priestly  class  explained  the  mystery  of  the  dogma  of 
the  transmigration  of  the  soul  from  one  body  to  another,  and 

92 


JAPANESE  PILLAR-PRINTS  CY  KORIUSAI 
From  the  collection  of  Arthur  Davison  Ficke 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

interpreted  the  circumstance  to  mean  that  the  spirit  of  the  de- 
ceased Governor  had  entered  into  one  of  the  house  pets. 

“ It  was  difficult  to  fix  on  a particular  one,  and  it  was  there- 
fore decided  that  every  cat  passing  out  of  the  main  entrance 
after  dark  was  to  be  treated  with  due  respect  and  the  proper 
honours.  The  decision  was  accepted  without  question  by  all 
the  native  attendants  and  others  belonging  to  Government 
House.  The  whole  guard  from  sepoy  to  sibadar,  fully  ac- 
quiesced in  it,  and  an  oral  addition  was  made  to  the  standing 
orders  that  the  sentry  at  the  front  door  ‘ present  arms  to  any 
cat  passing  out  there  after  dark.’  ” 

The  orientals  are  more  astute  about  cats  than  we  are. 
They  ascribe  to  them  a language,  a knowledge  of  the  future, 
an  extreme  sensitiveness  which  allows  them  to  perceive  ob- 
jects and  beings  invisible  to  man.  They  are  aware  that  this 
animal  wavers  on  the  borderland  between  the  natural  and  the 
supernatural,  the  conscious  and  the  subconscious.  They  even 
allow  them  to  have  ghosts.  It  may  be  said  here  that  an 
occidental  clergyman  has  written  a book to  prove  that  ani- 
mals have  souls  and  will  share  our  future  existence.  A heaven 
without  cats  would,  of  course,  be  deserted  for  a hell  with 
them. 

In  Professor  de  Groot’s  “ Religious  System  of  China  ” we 
find  an  early  story  of  cat  sorcery.  The  incident  occurred  in 
598  A.  D.,  under  the  Sui  Dynasty.  In  that  year  the  Emperor 
was  about  to  order  his  brother-in-law,  named  Tuh-hu  T’o,  and 
his  wife  to  commit  suicide  for  having  employed  cat-spectres 
against  the  Empress  and  another  lady,  who  had  fallen  ill 
simultaneously.  By  the  personal  intervention  of  the  Empress 
herself  and  that  of  her  younger  brother  they  were  granted 
their  lives,  but  the  man  was  divested  of  all  his  dignities  and 
his  wife  was  made  a Buddhist  nun.  During  the  trial  a female 
slave  told  the  judges  that  T’o’s  mother  used  to  sacrifice  to 
the  cat-spectres  at  night,  on  every  day  of  the  rat.  Whenever 
^ Rev.  J.  G.  Wood:  “Man  and  Beast:  Here  and  Hereafter.’’ 

93 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

a cat-spectre  murdered  a victim  the  possessions  of  the  dead 
man  transferred  themselves  automatically  to  the  house  where 
the  beast  was  kept.  T’o  had  commanded  her,  so  the  slave 
testified,  to  make  the  cat-spectre  enter  the  palace  in  order  to 
secure  valuable  presents  from  the  Empress.  When  the 
judges  had  heard  this  confession  they  ordered  the  woman  to 
call  the  spectre  back,  whereupon  setting  out  a bowl  of  fragrant 
rice-gruel,  and  drumming  against  it  with  a spoon,  she  ex- 
claimed, ‘ Come,  pussy,  remain  no  longer  in  the  palace.’ 
After  a time  her  face  turned  blue  and  moving  as  if  driven  by 
some  unseen  force,  she  muttered,  ‘ Here  is  the  cat-spectre.’ 
In  the  same  year  the  Emperor  ordered  all  families  keeping 
cat-spectres  to  be  banished  to  the  farthest  frontier  regions. 
This  act  seems  entirely  consistent  with  modern  governmental 
procedure.  De  Groot  also  tells  of  a hag  who  tormented  a 
child  and  made  it  cry  incessantly  at  night.  She  did  this  riding 
on  her  cat,  that  is  on  its  soul  as  a spectral  horse,  but  was  dis- 
covered and  routed  by  an  exorcist.  The  cat  was  beaten  to 
death  and  the  hag  starved,  whereupon  the  child  became  ap- 
peased and  stopped  crying.  The  result  seems  worthy  of  al- 
most any  means. 

The  domestic  cat  was  imported  from  China  into  Japan  in 
the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Ichigo  (986—1011).  The  animal 
was  at  first  a rare  and  high-priced  luxury  and  consequently  only 
the  noble  families  could  afford  to  keep  it.  How  much  the 
Emperor  himself  liked  cats  we  may  learn  from  the  “ 0-u-ki  ” 
and  the  “ Makura  no  soshi.”  The  former  book  states  that 

on  the  nineteenth  day  of  the  ninth  month  of  the  year  999  a 
cat  brought  forth  young  in  the  palace.  The  left  and  right 
ministers  had  the  task  of  bringing  up  the  kittens,  and  pre- 
pared boxes  (with  delicacies)  and  rice  and  clothes  for  them 
(as  for  newborn  babes).  Uma  no  myobu,  a court  lady,  was 
appointed  wet-nurse  for  the  kittens.  The  people  laughed  at 
the  matter  and  were  rather  astonished.”  The  attitude  of  the 
people  does  not  seem  to  be  unusual  or  surprising.  The  Em- 

94 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

peror  further  bestowed  the  fifth  rank  (that  of  the  court 
ladies)  on  a cat  in  the  palace  and  gave  her  the  name,  Mydbu 
no  Omoto  (Omoto,  the  lady-in-waiting). 

But  poor  puss,  who  began  her  life  in  Japan  as  a pampered 
pet,  the  favourite  of  the  court,  in  less  than  three  centuries 
began  to  be  associated  with  demons  in  the  popular  mind. 
In  the  “ Kokonchomonshu  ” ( 1254)  there  is  a tale  of  a Budd- 
hist Archbishop  who  received  a visit  from  a beautiful  Chinese 
cat,  who  came,  like  Melisande  and  Mr.  Warner’s  Calvin,  ap- 
parently from  nowhere.  The  Archbishop  was  vastly  diverted 
by  the  antics  of  the  graceful  animal,  who  liked  to  play  with  a 
ball  and  was  very  skilful  at  the  game.  One  day,  by  way 
of  jest,  the  priest  substituted  a precious  mamori-sword  (a 
sacred  sword  with  protective  magical  powers)  for  the  ball. 
The  cat  seized  it  in  her  mouth,  ran  away,  and  was  never  seen 
again.  “ She  was,”  remarks  the  author  solemnly,  “ probably 
a transformed  demon,  who  by  taking  the  protective  sword 
could  more  easily  attack  people.” 

In  the  “ Yamato  Kwai-i  ki  ” ( 1708)  there  is  an  account  of 
the  strange  happenings  in  the  house  of  a samurai.  At  night, 
luminous  balls,  which  no  one  could  catch,  bounded  about  the 
rooms,  about  three  inches  from  the  floor.  Once  a group  of 
these  mysterious  balls  illuminated  a tree.  The  maid-servants 
were  attacked  by  spirits  in  their  sleep;  one  of  them  especially 
was  troubled  by  demons.  Her  spinning-wheel  turned  of  its 
own  volition  and  her  pillow  circled  as  if  on  a pivot  while  she 
slept.  In  vain  she  sought  relief  from  sorceresses,  Shinto 
priests,  yamabushi,  and  Buddhist  priests;  neither  their  charms 
nor  their  prayers  assisted  her.  At  last  the  master  of  the 
house  saw  a very  old  cat  walking  on  his  hind  legs  on  the  roof, 
with  a towel  belonging  to  tbe  maid-servant  bound  round  his 
head.®  A slave  brought  down  the  cat  with  an  arrow  and  the 

® Pierre  Loti  found  the  following  in  a rare  old  Japanese  hook:  “line  cer- 
taine  nuit  de  chaque  h'ver,  les  chats  tiennent,  dans  quelque  jard'tn  hole,  une 
grande  assemblee  qui  se  termine  par  une  ronde  generale  au  clair  de  lune.”  Vient 

95 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

house  was  no  longer  haunted.  The  animal  was  five  shaku 
long  and  its  tail  was  split  (nekomata). 

The  “ Mimi-bukuro  ” (1815)  introduces  us  to  talking  cats, 
which  occur  in  other  oriental  and  mediaeval  tales.  In  1795, 
it  seems,  a cat  observed,  “What  a pity!  ” when  his  master, 
the  abbot  of  a monastery,  frightened  away  some  doves  for 
which  he  had  been  lying  in  wait.  The  abbot  seized  tbe  cat 
and  threatened  him  in  this  manner:  “ It  is  very  strange  that 

you,  an  animal,  can  speak.  You  can  certainly  transform  your- 
self and  haunt  mankind.  As  you  have  spoken  once  you  must 
speak  again;  otherwise  I shall  break  tbe  commandment  to 
spare  all  living  beings  and  kill  you.”  Whereupon  puss  re- 
plied in  stately  periods:  “ We  cats  are  not  the  only  creatures 

who  can  speak;  all  creatures  are  able  to  do  so  when  they  are 
more  than  ten  years  old.  When  they  reach  the  age  of  twenty- 
four  or  five  they  can  also  change  themselves  in  a miraculous 
way  but  no  cat  ever  reaches  that  age.  A cat  who  is  a cross 
between  a fox  and  a cat  can  speak  before  the  age  of  ten.” 
At  the  conclusion  of  this  lesson  in  unnatural  history  the  good 
abbot  reported  himself  satisfied  and  gave  the  cat  leave  to 
remain  in  the  monastery,  but  grimalkin  took  his  departure 
with  three  ceremonious  bows  and  was  never  seen  again. 

So  late  as  1875  a man  of  Toulon  informed  Berenger-Feraud 
that  one  of  his  friends  had  owned  a wizard  cat  who  was  ac- 
customed to  take  an  active  part  in  the  evening  conversation, 
at  least  when  it  was  sufficiently  interesting  to  keep  him  awake. 
His  mistress  consulted  him  before  making  plans,  giving  her 
reasons  for  taking  one  course  or  another,  and  she  invariably 
followed  the  cat’s  advice.  The  animal  stated  his  preferences 
for  meat  or  fish  and  was  very  indignant  when  his  wishes  were 

ensuite,  continues  Loti,  cette  clause  adorable,  que  je  recommande  a I’altention  de 
Jules  Lemaitre  et  de  tous  ceux  qtii  sont  assez  affines  pour  comprendre  le  charme 
des  chats:  “Pour  etre  admis  a cette  reunion,  tout  chat  est  tenu  de  se  procurer 

un  fichu  ou  un  mouchoir  de  soie  dont  il  se  coiffe  pour  danser.”  “ Japoneries 
d’Automne,”  p.  150. 


96 


A JAPANESE  FANTASY 

From  CliampHeury’s  Les  Chats 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

not  respected.  From  time  to  time  he  disappeared  for  several 
days  and  the  members  of  the  household  believed  that  he  took 
human  form  during  these  absences.  When  he  lay  at  the  point 
of  death  he  prayed  that  his  body  might  be  decently  buried. 
His  mistress  not  daring  to  inter  him  in  a grave  prepared  for 
a human  being,  laid  the  coffin  behind  the  cemetery  wall  adjac- 
ent to  a Christian  tomb  and  at  the  funeral  the  cat’s  soul  was 
recommended  to  the  care  of  his  Creator.  The  fabulists  all 
ask  the  cat  to  speak  and  the  Cheshire  Cat  in  “ Alice  in  Won- 
derland ” is  as  epigrammatic  as  an  Oscar  Wilde  duchess.  “ If 
we  had  not  in  our  intercourse  with  human  beings  acquired  a 
certain  contempt  for  speech  we  could  all  speak,”  says  Hinze 
the  Tom  Cat  in  Ludwig  Tieck’s  delightful  play,  Der  Ges- 
tiefelte  Kater. 

In  the  middle  ages  cats  attended  witches’  revels,  went  to 
the  Sabbath,  and  frequently  shared  the  fate  of  the  witch, 
which  was  to  be  drowned  or  toasted  alive.  Many  witches 
about  to  be  burned  confessed  that  they  had  often  taken  the 
shapes  of  cats, 

Chatte  dans  le  ]our,  la  nuit  elle  est  femme, 

and  these  confessions  stimulated  the  persecution  of  the  feline 
race.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that  in  the  middle  ages 
cats,  like  other  animals  were  moral  agents  and  could  be  sued 
or  criminally  tried.  Trials  of  this  sort  were  not  rare.  Again 
the  Roman  Church  claimed  full  power  to  anathematize  all 
animate  and  inanimate  things.  Doubtless  these  facts,  added 
to  the  gleaming  eyes  and  generally  mysterious  nature  of  the 
cat,  her  inexplicable  disappearances  and  appearances,  made  it 
very  easy  for  the  judges  to  believe  the  witches’  confessions. 
“ What  explanation  can  be  given  of  the  evil  repute  of  our 
household  friend  the  cat?  ” asks  Moncure  Daniel  Conway.’’ 
“ Is  it  derived  by  inheritance  from  its  fierce  ancestors  of  the 

® “ Demonology  and  Devil-Lore.” 

97 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

jungle?  Was  it  first  suggested  by  its  horrible  human-like, 
sleep-murdering  caterwaulings  at  night?  Or  has  it  simply 
suffered  from  a theological  curse  on  the  cats  said  to  draw 
the  chariot  of  the  goddess  of  beauty?”  The  sceptic  Fon- 
tenelle  told  Moncrif  that  he  had  been  brought  up  to  believe 
that  all  the  cats  in  town  went  to  the  Sabbath  on  the  eve  of 
Saint  John’s  day.  Therefore  the  peasants,  in  order  to  rid  the 
country  of  sorcerers,  threw  all  the  cats  they  could  catch  into 
the  fire  on  this  day.  Cats  play  a part  in  the  horrid  masonic 
rites  described  by  Dr.  Bataille  in  his  “ Le  Diabfe  au  XIX 
Siecle.”  The  she-cat  is  one  of  a dozen  animals  to  which 
Dante  compares  his  demons.  Mgr.  Leon  Maurin,  once  Arch- 
bishop at  Port  Luis  in  Mauritius,  writes  about  the  sacrifices 
of  cats  by  devil-worshippers  at  midnight  on  the  altars  of  rifled 
churches.  The  devil,  himself,  indeed,  frequently  borrowed 
the  black  robe  of  a cat,  for  bad  cats  are  usually  black,  as  good 
cats  are  usually  white.  The  worthy  Pere  Bougeant  writes: 
" Les  betes  ne  sont  qiie  des  diahles  et  a la  tete  de  ces  diables 
marclie  le  chat”  Saint  Dominique,  when  he  preached  of  the 
devil,  described  him  as  a cat.  The  large  green  or  topaze 
fixed  eyes  of  the  inky  felines  contributed  to  the  stability  of 
the  legend.  There  were  spectre-cats,  ” familiars,”  but  most 
often  the  cat  was  the  pythoness  herself  in  animal  form.  We 
still  celebrate  the  union  of  cats  and  witches  on  Hallowe’en. 
How  were  these  cat  demons  raised?  Cornelius  Agrippa  in 
his  “Occult  Philosophy”  (1651)  says  that  if  “Coriander, 
smallage,  henbane  and  hemlock  be  made  a fume,  spirits  will 
presently  come  together,  hence  they  are  called  the  spirit  herbs. 
Also  it  is  said  that  a fume  made  of  the  root  of  herb  sagapen 
with  the  juice  of  hemlock  and  henbane,  and  the  herb  tapsus 
barbatus,  red  sanders  and  black  poppy  make  spirits  and  strange 
shapes  appear.  Moreover  it  is  said  that  by  certain  fumes 
certain  animals  are  gathered  together.  . . .”  In  the  “ Con- 
jurers’ Magazine  ” (1791)  there  is  to  be  found  a recipe  “ to 
draw  cats  together  and  fascinate  them  ” : “ In  the  new  moon, 

98 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

gather  the  herb  Nepe,  and  dry  it  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  when 
it  is  temperately  hot.  Gather  vervain  in  the  hour  ^ and  only 
expose  it  to  the  air  while  O is  under  the  earth.  Hang  these 
together  in  a net,  in  a convenient  place,  and  when  one  of 
them  has  scented  it,  her  cry  will  soon  call  those  about  her  that 
are  within  hearing;  and  they  will  rant  and  run  about,  leaping 
and  capering  to  get  at  the  net,  which  must  be  placed  so  that 
they  cannot  easily  accomplish  it,  for  they  will  certainly  tear 
it  to  pieces.”  There  must  be  other  recipes  in  the  “ Grimorium 
Verum,”  the  ” Grimoire  of  Pope  Honorius  ” and  the  “ Grand 
Grimoire.”  But  when  a witch  wanted  to  transform  herself 
into  a cat  she  rubbed  herself  with  a certain  ointment.  This 
art,  along  with  that  of  polishing  intaglios,  seems  to  be  lost. 

The  Taigheirm  was  an  infernal  magical  sacrifice  of  cats,  the 
origin  of  which  lies  in  remote  pagan  times,  in  rites  dedicated 
to  the  subterranean  gods,  from  whom  particular  gifts  and 
benefits  were  solicited  by  nocturnal  offerings.  The  word  it- 
self, in  Gaelic,  signifies  the  invocation  of  the  house.  Through 
Christianity  these  sacrifices  were  modified  and  were  offered 
now  to  the  infernal  powers,  or  as  they  were  called  in  the 
Highlands  and  the  Western  Isles  of  Scotland,  the  Black-Cat 
Spirits. 

According  to  Horst’s  “ Deuteroscopy  ” black  cats  were  in- 
dispensable to  the  incantation  ceremony  of  the  Taigheirm,  and 
as  will  presently  appear,  plenty  of  black  cats.  These  were 
dedicated  to  the  gods  of  the  lower  world  or  later  to  the  foul 
demons  of  Christianity.  The  midnight  hour  between  Friday 
and  Saturday  was  the  authentic  time  for  these  horrible  prac- 
tices and  invocations  to  begin;  the  ceremony  was  protracted 
for  four  days  and  nights,  during  which  period  the  operator 
was  forbidden  to  sleep  or  to  take  nourishment. 

” After  the  cats  were  dedicated  to  all  the  devils,  and  put 
into  a magico-sympathetic  condition  by  the  shameful  things 
done  to  them,  and  the  agony  occasioned  them,  one  of  them  was 
at  once  put  on  the  spit,  and  amid  terrific  bowlings,  roasted 

99 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

before  a slow  fire.  The  moment  that  the  howls  of  one  tor- 
tured cat  ceased  in  death,  another  was  put  upon  the  spit,  for 
a minute  of  interval  must  not  continue  if  an  agent  would  con- 
trol hell;  and  this  must  continue  for  four  entire  days  and 
nights,  if  the  exorcist  could  hold  out,  still  longer,  and  even  if 
till  his  physical  powers  were  absolutely  exhausted,  he  must  do 
so.  After  a time  infernal  spirits  appeared  in  the  shape  of 
black  cats.  There  came  continually  more  and  more  of  these 
cats  and  their  howling  mingled  with  that  of  those  roasting  on 
the  spit  was  terrific.  Finally  a cat  of  monstrous  size  appeared 
with  dreadful  threats.  The  gift  of  second  sight  was  usually 
the  recompense  of  the  Taigheirm.” 

One  of  the  last  Taigheirm, according  to  Horst,  was  held 
in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  in  the  Island  of  Mull. 
The  spot  is  still  marked  where  Allan  Maclean,  at  that  time 
the  sacrificial  priest,  stood  with  his  assistant,  Lachlain  Mac- 
lean.  He  continued  his  sacrifices  to  the  fourth  day  when  he 
was  exhausted  in  mind  and  body  and  sank  into  a swoon. 

The  infernal  spirits  appeared,  some  in  the  early  progress  of 
the  sacrifices,  in  the  shape  of  black  cats.  The  first,  glared  at 
the  sacrificers  and  cried,  “ Lachlain  Oer  ” (Injurer  of  Cats). 
Allan,  the  chief  operator,  warned  Lachlain  that  he  must  not 
waver  but  must  keep  the  spit  turning  incessantly  whatever  he 
might  see  or  hear.  At  the  end  of  the  second  day  a monster 
cat  arrived  with  a horrid  howl  and  assured  Lachlain  Oer  that 
if  he  did  not  cease  putting  pussies  on  the  spit  before  their 
largest  brother  arrived  he  would  never  see  the  face  of  God. 

John  Gregorson  Campbell  in  “ Superstitions  of  the  Highlands  and  Islands 
of  Scotland”  describes  the  Taigheirm  as  a “devil’s  supper”  and  he  says  that 
tradition  in  the  West  Highlands  makes  mention  of  three  instances  of  this  per- 
formance, all  of  which  are  similar:  Allan  the  cattle-lifter  (Ailein  nan  creach) 

at  Dail-a-chat  (subsequently  called  The  Cats’  Field)  in  Lochaber;  Dun  Lachlain 
in  the  big  barn  at  Pennygoun  in  Mull;  and  the  Children  of  Quithen,  a small 
sept  at  Skye  in  a cave.  The  night  of  the  day  I first  learned  of  the  Taigheirm 
I dined  with  some  friends  who  were  also  entertaining  Seumas,  Chief  of  Clann 
Fhearghuis  of  Stra-chur,  who  informed  me  that  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  the 
Taigheirm  is  still  celebrated  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland. 

lOO 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

“ Bring  on  all  the  devils  of  hell  and  I will  not  stop  until  I 
have  completed  my  work,”  cried  Lachlain.  At  the  end  of  the 
fourth  day  a hlack  cat  with  fire  flaming  from  his  eyes  perched 
on  the  end  of  a beam  in  the  roof  of  the  barn  and  his  howl 
could  be  heard  quite  across  the  straits  of  Mull  into  Morven. 
One  is  not  surprised  to  learn  that  on  the  last  day  Allan  was 
wholly  exhausted  by  the  apparitions  and  could  only  utter  the 
word  “ Prosperity  ” before  he  became  unconscious.  But  Lach- 
lain was  still  self-possessed  and  able  to  continue.  He  de- 
manded prosperity  and  wealth.  Both  got  what  they  asked 
for.  It  might  be  added  that  men  of  such  nerve  should  be  able 
to  get  anything  they  wanted  on  earth. 

On  his  death  bed  Allan  informed  his  friends  that  if  he 
and  Lachlain  (who  had  died  before  him)  had  lived  a little 
longer  they  would  have  driven  Satan  from  his  throne.  When 
Allan’s  funeral  cortege  reached  the  churchyard  those  persons 
endowed  with  second  sight  saw  at  some  distance  Lachlain 
Oer,  standing  fully  armed  at  the  head  of  a band  of  black  cats, 
from  which  streamed  the  odour  of  brimstone. 

In  some  old  French  records  an  account  is  given  of  how  a man 
buried  a black  cat  at  a spot  where  four  cross-roads  met.  In 
the  box  with  the  cat  he  placed  bread  soaked  in  holy  water  and 
holy  oil,  sufficient  to  keep  the  animal  alive  for  three  days.  His 
intention  was  to  dig  up  his  innocent  victim,  slay  him,  and  make 
a girdle  of  his  skin,  by  which  means  he  expected  to  be  able  to 
transform  himself  into  an  animal  and  gain  the  gift  of  clairvoy- 
ance. Unfortunately  for  his  projects,  however,  the  buried 
puss  was  exhumed  by  hounds.  The  affair  thus  came  to  public 
knowledge  and  ended  in  the  courts  where  the  guilty  man  was 
condemmed  for  sorcery  and  probably  subsequently  burned  at 
the  stake. 

One  of  the  mediaeval  grimoires  gives  a curious  recipe  by 
means  of  which  a sorcerer  might  make  himself  invisible,  in 
which  a black  cat  again  is  the  central  figure:  “ Steal  a black 

cat,  buy  a new  pot,  a mirror,  a piece  of  flint,  an  agate,  char- 
iot 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

coal,  and  a tinder;  draw  water  from  a fountain  at  the  exact 
hour  of  midnight;  after  that  light  your  fire,  put  the  cat  in  the 
pot,  and  hold  the  cover  with  the  left  hand  without  moving 
or  looking  behind  you,  whatever  noise  you  may  hear,  and  after 
it  has  boiled  for  twenty-four  hours,  always  without  moving  or 
looking  behind  you,  put  the  mess  into  a new  dish,  taking  the 
meat  and  throwing  it  over  the  left  shoulder,  repeating  these 
words:  Accipe  quod  tihi  do  et  nihil  ampUiis.  Then  crunch 

the  bones  one  after  the  other,  under  the  teeth,  from  the  left 
side,  looking  at  yourself  in  the  mirror,  and  walk  backwards.” 
When  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  a young  man  he  went  to  see 
that  curious  being,  the  Black  Dwarf,  “ bowed  David  Ritchie,” 
in  his  den,  a gloomy  bit  of  hut.  After  they  had  sat  together 
for  a while  the  dwarf,  glancing  at  Scott,  asked,  ” Man,  ha’  ye 
ony  poo’r?  ” meaning  of  course,  supernatural  power.  Scott 
disclaimed  any  gift  of  the  sort.  The  dwarf  then  stretched 
his  finger  out  to  a corner,  where  for  the  first  time  Scott  be- 
came aware  that  a green-eyed  black  cat  was  sitting,  staring  at 
him.  As  the  dwarf  extended  his  finger  towards  the  cat  he  cried, 
“ He  has  poo’r,”  and  Scott  admitted  that  a strange  feeling  of 
awe  and  terror  crept  over  him.  A century  or  two  earlier 
bowed  David  and  his  cat  would  have  broken  on  the  wheel.  In 
1607  a witch  bearing  the  name  of  Isobel  Grierson  was  burned 
at  the  stake  after  having  been  accused  and  convicted  of  enter- 
ing the  house  of  one  Adam  Clark  in  Prestonpans  in,  the  like- 
ness of  the  man’s  own  pet  cat  and  in  the  company  of  a mighty 
rabble  of  other  cats,  who  by  their  noise  frightened  Adam,  his 
wife,  and  their  servant,  the  last-named  being  dragged  up  and 
down  the  stairs  by  the  hair  of  her  head,  presumably  by  the 
devil  in  the  shape  of  a black  man.  Isobel  also  visited  the 
house  of  a certain  Mr.  Brown  in  the  shape  of  a cat,  but  being 
called  by  name  she  vanished,  not,  however,  before  she  had 
caused  him  to  fall  ill  of  a disease  of  which  he  afterwards  died. 
And  Alice  Duke,  alias  Manning,  of  Wincanton  in  Somerset, 
who  was  tried  in  1664  for  witchcraft,  confessed  that  her 


102 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

familiar  visited  her  “ in  the  shape  of  a little  cat  of  dunnish 
colour,  which  is  as  smooth  as  a want  ” and  that  “ her  familiar 
doth  commonly  suck  her  right  breast  about  seven  at  night  ” 
after  which  she  fell  into  a kind  of  trance.  Any  book  on 
witches  will  furnish  a score  of  such  examples  and  almost  all 
of  them  give  a long  account  of  the  famous  Rutterkin  case, 
which  has  likewise  been  retold  so  frequently  in  books  about 
cats  that  I will  not  repeat  it  here.  In  a story  called  “ Ancient 
Sorceries  ” Algernon  Blackwood  has  utilized  the  theme  in 
fiction.^^  Arthur  Vezin,  an  Englishman  travelling  in  France, 
descended  with  his  bag  at  some  way  station  intending  to  pass 
the  night.  As  the  train  moved  slowly  away  one  of  his  com- 
panions in  the  compartment,  a stranger,  leaned  out  of  the 
window  and  whispered  into  his  ear  a long  sentence  of  which 
he  was  only  able  to  catch  the  last  few  words,  a cause  de 
sonuneil  et  a cause  de  chats.”  Vezin  at  once  began  to  notice 
“ the  extraordinary  silence  of  the  whole  place.  Positively  the 
town  was  muffled.  Although  the  streets  were  paved  with 
cobbles  the  people  moved  about  silently,  softly,  with  padded 
feet,  like  cats.  Nothing  made  noise.  All  was  hushed,  sub- 
dued, muted.  The  very  voices  were  quiet,  low-pitched  like 
purring.  Nothing  clamorous,  vehement,  or  emphatic  seemed 
able  to  live  in  the  drowsy  atmosphere  of  soft  dreaming  that 
soothed  this  little  hill-town  into  its  sleep.  It  was  like  the 
woman  at  the  inn  — an  outward  repose  screening  intense  Inner 
activity  and  purpose.  Yet  there  was  no  sign  of  lethargy  or 
sluggishness  anywhere  about  It.  The  people  were  active  and 
alert.  Only  a magical  and  uncanny  softness  lay  over  them 
like  a spell.” 

Presently  Vezin  had  the  feeling  that  he  was  being  spied 
upon  and  ” he  began  to  see  how  it  was  that  he  was  so  cleverly 
watched  yet  without  the  appearance  of  It.  The  people  did 
nothing  directly.  They  behaved  obliquely.  . . . They  looked 
at  him  from  angles  which  naturally  should  have  led  their 

“ John  Silence.” 


103 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

sight  In  another  direction  altogether.  Their  movements  were 
oblique,  too,  so  far  as  these  concerned  himself.  The  straight, 
direct  thing  was  not  their  way  evidently.  They  did  nothing 
obviously.  If  he  entered  a shop  to  buy,  the  woman  walked 
instantly  away  and  busied  herself  with  something  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  counter,  though  answering  at  once  when  he  spoke, 
shov/ing  that  she  knew  he  was  there  and  that  this  was  only  her 
way  of  attending  to  him.  It  was  the  fashion  of  the  cat  she 
followed.  Even  in  the  dining-room  of  the  inn,  the  be- 
whiskered  and  courteous  waiter,  lithe  and  silent  in  all  his 
movements,  never  seemed  able  to  come  straight  to  his  table 
for  an  order  or  a dish.  He  came  by  zigzags,  indirectly, 
vaguely,  so  that  he  appeared  to  be  going  to  another  table 
altogether,  and  only  turned  suddenly  at  the  last  moment,  and 
was  there  beside  him.”  At  length,  the  daughter  of  the 
keeper  of  the  inn  returned,  a beautiful,  panther-like  creature; 
she  brushed  past  Vezin  in  a dark  hallway,  with  the  touch  of 
kitten’s  fur,  and  awakened  in  him  a most  intense  passion. 
And  it  was  from  her  that  he  learned  the  secret  of  the  town,  the 
consecration  of  its  folk  to  the  ancient  sorceries.  He  joined  her 
and  her  mother  In  a wild  but  stealthily  noiseless  dance  on 
the  flagstones  of  the  courtyard  of  the  inn,  and  then  In  terror 
fled  to  his  room,  from  whence  he  saw  the  inhabitants  of  the 
town  In  the  guise  of  cats  climbing  from  the  windows,  over  the 
roofs,  and  leaping  to  the  streets  below.  Rushing  into  the  open 
he  met  the  girl  who  cried:  ” ‘ Transform,  Transform!  . . . 

Rub  well  your  skin  before  you  fly.  Come ! Come  with  me  to 
the  Sabbath,  to  the  madness  of  its  furious  delight,  to  the  sweet 
abandonment  of  Its  evil  worship!  See!  the  Great  Ones  are 
there,  and  the  terrible  Sacraments  prepared.  The  throne  is 
occupied.  Anoint  and  come ! Anoint  and  come ! ’ She 
grew  to  the  height  of  a tree  beside  him,  leaping  upon  the  wall 
with  flaming  eyes  and  hair  strewn  upon  the  night.  He  too 
began  to  change  swiftly.  Her  hands  touched  the  skin  of  his 
face  and  neck,  streaking  him  with  the  burning  salve  that  sent 

104 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

the  old  magic  into  his  blood  with  the  power  before  which  fades 
all  that  is  good.  A wild  roar  came  up  to  his  ears  from  the 
heart  of  the  wood,  and  the  girl,  when  she  heard  it,  leaped  upon 
the  wall  in  the  frenzy  of  her  wicked  joy.  ‘ Satan  is  there ! ’ 
she  screamed,  rushing  upon  him  and  striving  to  draw  him  with 
her  to  the  edge  of  the  wall.  ‘ Satan  has  come ! The  Sacra- 
ments call  us!  Come,  with  your  dear  apostate  soul,  and  we 
will  worship  and  dance  till  the  moon  dies  and  the  world  is  for- 
gotten.’ ” 

In  the  old  tales  human  beings  frequently  assumed  the  form 
of  cats  in  order  the  better  to  carry  on  their  turpitudes.  The 
transformation  was  usually  accomplished,  as  in  Blackwood’s 
story,  by  the  application  of  a magic  salve.  In  these  stories 
the  phenomenon  of  repercussion  is  the  most  interesting  feature. 
It  was  the  belief  that  if  you  injured  an  animal  inhabited  by  a 
witch  spirit  when  she  regained  human  form  she  still  bore  the 
marks  of  the  injury.  Variations  of  the  belief  in  repercussion 
occur  in  the  folk-tales  of  every  language  and  evidence  of  re- 
percussion was  frequently  introduced  at  witches’  trials.  A 
woodman  whose  dinner  was  stolen  from  him  daily  by  a cat 
made  many  attempts  to  put  an  end  to  these  depredations.  At 
last,  catching  pussy  in  the  act,  he  chopped  off  one  of  her  paws, 
and  when  he  returned  home  he  observed,  to  his  horror,  that 
his  wife  had  lost  one  of  her  hands.  There  is  the  similar  tale 
of  the  Swabian  soldier  who  used  to  visit  the  young  woman  to 
whom  he  was  betrothed  every  evening  when  he  was  off  duty. 
But  on  one  occasion  the  girl  warned  him  that  he  must  never 
come  to  her  on  Friday  because  it  was  not  convenient  for  her 
to  see  him  then.  His  suspicions  were  accordingly  aroused 
and  the  very  next  Friday  night  he  set  out  for  his  sweetheart’s 
bouse.  On  the  way  a white  cat  dogged  his  steps  and  as  the 
animal  become  importunate  he  drew  his  sword  and  slashed 
off  one  of  her  hind  paws,  whereupon  she  ran  away.  Arriving 
at  the  girl’s  house  he  found  her  in  bed  and  when  he  asked  her 
what  was  the  matter  she  gave  a very  confused  reply.  Noting 

I OS 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

stains  of  blood  on  the  white  coverlet  he  drew  it  back  and  saw 
that  his  betrothed  was  bathed  in  blood  for  one  of  her  feet  had 
been  chopped  off.  “ Witch  ! ” he  cried  and  left  her.  In  three 
days  she  was  dead.^^  There  is  further  the  history  of  the 
woman  of  Ceyreste  whose  children  were  always  ailing,  a state 
of  affairs  for  which  there  was  no  natural  way  of  accounting. 
A neighbour  told  her  that  she  thought  her  mother-in-law 
might  be  responsible.  “ She  may  be  a witch.”  The  woman 
spoke  to  her  husband  and  they  determined  to  watch  the  cradles 
of  their  offspring.  That  very  night  observing  a black  cat 
crawling  over  the  side  of  the  baby’s  crib,  the  man  struck  the 
animal  a violent  blow  with  a club.  With  a howl  the  beast 
sprang  through  the  open  window  and  vanished.  The  mother- 
in-law  had  been  in  the  habit  of  paying  daily  visits  to  her  son’s 
family  but  the  next  day  she  did  not  appear,  nor  yet  the  next. 
After  a few  days  her  son  went  to  see  her  and  found  her  in  a 
bad  temper  with  her  hand  bandaged.  In  response  to  his 
query  as  to  why  she  had  not  come  to  his  house  as  usual  she 
replied  in  a rage:  “ Look  at  the  state  of  my  fingers.  What- 

ever should  I come  to  your  house  for?  If  I had  been  struck 
by  a hatchet  instead  of  a stick  my  hand  would  have  been  cut 
off  and  I would  have  had  nothing  but  a stump.”  One  more: 
the  witches  of  Vernon  in  the  shape  of  cats  inhabited  an 
ancient  castle.  Three  or  four  men  determined  to  pass  the 
night  in  this  castle;  they  were  attacked  by  the  cats  and  many 
wounds  were  exchanged.  Afterwards  the  women  returned 
to  their  human  forms  and  were  found  to  be  suffering  from 
corresponding  gashes. 

It  seems  rather  surprising  that  Arthur  Machen  has  not 
touched  upon  the  repercussion  phenomenon  in  any  of  his 
mystic  masterpieces.  Again  we  must  turn  to  Algernon  Black- 
wood, this  time  to  his  story,  “ The  Empty  Sleeve.”  The 

12  Ernst  Meier;  “ Deutsche  Sagen,  Sitten  und  Gebrauche  aus  Schwaben”; 
Stuttgart,  1852. 

13  “ The  London  Magazine”;  January  1911. 

106 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

violinist  Hyman  “ believed  that  there  was  some  fluid  portion 
of  a man’s  personality  which  could  be  projected  to  a distance, 
and  even  semimaterialized  there.  The  ‘ astral  body,’  he 
called  it,  or  some  such  foolishness,  claiming  that  it  could  appear 
in  various  forms,  according  to  its  owner’s  desire,  even  in 
animal  forms.”  John  Gilmer  was  awakened  one  night  by  a 
noise  In  the  flat;  seizing  a Turkish  sword  from  the  wall  he 
entered  the  sitting  room  where  he  saw  a moving  figure.  The 
encounter  and  terror  of  both  beings  in  the  dark  Is  described, 
and  as  the  creature,  which  John  finally  recognized  as  an 
enormous  cat,  fled,  John  struck  it  with  his  weapon,  almost 
severing  one  of  the  front  legs  from  the  body.  Months 
afterwards  the  Gilmers  met  Hyman  wearing  spectacles  and  a 
beard.  William  pointed  out  to  his  brother  the  difference. 

“ ‘ But  didn’t  you  notice — ’ 

‘What?’ 

‘ He  had  an  empty  sleeve.’ 

‘ Yes,’  said  William.  ‘ He’s  lost  an  arm!  ’ ” 

The  supernatural  plays  a part  in  many  other  stories.  On 
the  twenty-sixth  of  March,  1782  (it  is  remarkable  how  many 
such  miracles  are  carefully  dated)  a gentleman  of  wealth  con- 
sulted Count  Cagliostro,  In  an  attempt  to  discover  If  his  wife, 
who  was  young  and  beautiful,  had  been  unfaithful  to  him. 
Cagliostro  assured  the  anxious  husband  that  the  proof  was  a 
simple  one  and  gave  him  a phial  of  liquid  which  he  Instructed 
him  to  drink  before  going  to  bed.  “ If  your  wife  has  broken 
her  vows,”  he  added,  “ you  will  be  transformed  into  a cat.” 
The  husband  returned  home  and  told  his  wife  the  whole 
story;  she  laughed  at  his  credulity  but  he  swallowed  the 
draught  and  went  to  bed.  Rising  early,  the  lady  left  him 
sleeping,  but  later  as  he  did  not  appear,  went  to  seek  him, 
when  to  her  astonishment  she  found  in  his  place  a huge  black 
cat.  She  screamed,  called  out  her  husband’s  name,  and  finally 
knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  and  begged  for  pardon,  confessing 
that  she  had  committed  a sin  with  a handsome  young  soldier 

107 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

who  had  cajoled  her  by  means  of  tears  and  tales  of  heroic 
deeds  to  forget  her  marriage  vows.  A story  known  as 
“ The  Devil’s  Cat  ” is  current  in  North  Germany:  A peasant 

owned  three  beautiful  cats.  A neighbour  begged  one  of  these 
from  him  and  obtained  her.  To  accustom  her  to  her  new  home 
he  shut  her  up  in  the  loft.  At  night,  puss,  popping  her  head 
out  of  the  window,  asked,  “What  shall  I bring  tonight?” 
“ Thou  shalt  bring  mice,”  answered  the  man.  The  cat  set 
to  work,  casting  all  she  caught  on  the  floor  till  the  loft  was  so 
full  of  dead  mice  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  open  the 
door  and  the  man  was  employed  the  entire  day  in  throwing 
them  away  by  bushels.  That  night  again  the  cat  put  her  head 
through  the  window  and  asked,  “ What  shall  I bring  tonight?  ” 
“ Thou  shalt  bring  rye,”  answered  the  farmer.  In  the  morn- 
ing the  loft  was  stacked  with  rye.  The  man  now  saw  the 
true  nature  of  the  cat  and  carried  her  back  to  his  neighbour, 
“ for  had  he  given  her  work  the  third  time  he  could  never 
have  gotten  rid  of  her.”  His  mistake,  of  course,  was  in  not 
asking  for  gold  on  the  second  night. 

It  is  her  unusually  fine  nervous  system,  her  electricity,  which 
made  the  cat  useful  to  the  sorcerer,  and  this  same  nervous 
system,  her  extreme  sensitiveness  and  susceptibility  often  en- 
able her  to  perform  seeming  miracles.  In  the  year  1783  two 
cats  belonging  to  a merchant  of  Messina  warned  him  of  the  ap- 
proach of  an  earthquake.  Before  the  first  shock  they  tried 
to  scratch  their  way  through  the  floor  of  a room  in  which  they 
were  confined.  Their  master,  observing  their  fruitless  efforts, 
opened  the  door  for  them.  At  two  other  closed  doors  they 
continued  to  exhibit  symptoms  of  frantic  terror  and  when 
finally  set  at  liberty  they  ran  swiftly  through  the  town  and 
made  for  the  open  fields  where  they  began  to  dig.  The  earth- 
quake destroyed  the  house  they  had  left  and  several  surround- 
ing it  but  the  merchant  who,  filled  with  curiosity  over  the 
strange  behaviour  of  the  cats,  had  followed  them,  was  saved. 
This  story  has  a perfectly  natural  explanation:  the  extremely 

108 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

sensitive  nervous  organization  of  the  cats  was  affected  by 
the  seismic  disturbances  long  before  they  registered  on  the 
infinitely  coarser  nervous  system  of  man,  who  if  he  ever  pos- 
sessed these  finer  perceptions  has  almost  completely  lost  them, 
except  in  isolated  cases.  Earthquakes  do  not  occur  with 
sufficient  frequency  to  obtain  much  evidence  in  this  direction, 
but  cases  in  which  cats  have  warned  householders  of  fires, 
sometimes  saving  many  lives  thereby,  are  numberless. 

Cats  have  some  uncanny  fashion  of  reckoning  time.  A 
London  barrister,  one  of  the  staff  of  a well-known  provincial 
newspaper,  told  Lindsay  that  his  cat  was  accustomed  to  meet 
him  regularly  on  a certain  road  on  his  way  home  from  his 
office.  There  is  an  infallible  method  by  which  you  can  test 
your  own  cat  in  this  respect.  Feed  him  regularly  at  a certain 
hour  each  day  for  a few  weeks  and  thereafter,  if  you  have 
no  clock  in  the  house,  he  will  inform  you  himself  when  the 
hour  arrives.  Alexandre  Dumas  relates  a story  of  a clair- 
voyant cat  which  goes  even  further.^^  His  Mysouff  used  to 
accompany  him  from  his  home  in  the  Rue  de  I’Ouest  every 
morning  as  far  as  the  Rue  de  Vaugirard  and  wait  for  him 
every  evening  at  the  same  point.  “ The  curious  thing  was 
that,  on  such  days  as  some  chance  circumstance  or  casual  in- 
vitation tempted  me  to  break  my  dutiful  habits  as  a son  and 
I was  not  going  back  to  dine  at  home,  Mysouff,  though  the 
door  was  opened  for  his  exit  as  usual,  positively  refused  to 
go  out,  and  lay  motionless  on  his  cushion,  in  the  posture  of  a 
serpent  biting  his  own  tail.  It  was  quite  different  on  days 
when  I meant  to  return  punctually.  Then,  if  they  forgot 
to  open  the  door  for  him,  Mysouff  would  scratch  at  it  per- 
sistently with  his  claws  till  he  got  what  he  wanted.”  When 
Avery  Hopwood  visits  his  country-house  he  is  accustomed  to 
take  his  cat  with  him  in  his  automobile.  Abelard  sleeps  peace- 

For  a particularly  good  example  see  “Lady  Jule”  by  Francis  Wilson; 
“Ladies’  Home  Journal”;  November  1902. 

“ Mes  Betes.” 


109 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

fully  during  most  of  the  journey,  but  invariably  as  the  motor 
ascends  a certain  hill,  a quarter  of  a mile  from  the  house,  he 
gets  up  and  begins  to  stretch  himself. 

Cats  in  many  quarters  of  the  globe  are  held  responsible 
for  the  weather;  they  are  actually  said  to  make  it  good  or  bad. 
In  other  localities  they  are  regarded  as  competent  barometers. 
This  is  not  strange  when  it  is  remembered  that  cats  are 
extraordinarily  sensitive  to  the  changes  of  temperature,  while 
by  storms  they  are  sometimes  affected  almost  to  the  point  of 
madness.  Colette  Willy,  who  has  more  delicately  expressed 
the  psychology  of  cats  than  almost  any  one  else.  In  one  of  her 
dialogues  called,  “ I’Orage,”  gives  us  what  may  very  well 
be  an  accurate  vision  of  a cat’s  mind  during  a hot  summer 
tempest.  Kiki-la-Doucette  is  speaking  to  Toby-Chlen;  “I 
have  a headache.  Do  you  not  perceive  under  the  nearly  bare 
skin  of  my  temples,  under  my  bluish  and  transparent  skin  of  an 
animal  of  fine  breeding,  the  beating  of  my  arteries?  It  is 
terrible ! Around  my  forehead  my  veins  are  like  vipers  in 
convulsions  and  I do  not  know  what  gnome  is  forging  in  my 
brain.  O,  be  silent,  or  at  least  speak  so  softly  that  the  cours- 
ing of  my  agitated  blood  will  cover  your  words.”  Again, 
“The  storm  is  here.  Gods!  how  I suffer!  If  I could  only 
quit  this  skin  and  this  fur  which  smother  me,  if  I could  only 
turn  myself  inside  out,  naked  as  a skinned  mouse,  towards  the 
freshness ! O dog,  you  cannot  see  but  I feel  the  sparks  which 
crackle  at  the  tip  of  each  of  my  hairs.  Do  not  come  near  me: 
I am  about  to  send  forth  a bolt  of  blue  flame.  . . .”  Pres- 
ently the  dog  describes  her:  “ You  are  changed.  Cat!  Your 

drawn  figure  is  that  of  a starved  creature,  and  your  hair,  like 
burnished  metal  here,  ruffled  there,  gives  you  the  pitiful  ap- 
pearance of  a weasel  which  has  fallen  Into  oil.”  And  when 
the  Lady  approaches,  Kiki  mutters,  “ If  she  touches  me  I will 
devour  her.”  Pierquin  de  Gembloux  describes  a different 

“ Sept  Dialogues  de  Betes.” 

It  “Traite  de  la  Folie  des  Anlmaux.” 


I lO 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

reaction  to  the  effect  of  a storm  in  which  a surplus  of  electri- 
city in  the  air,  a state  of  high  electrical  tension,  sometimes 
produces  hilarity,  gaiety,  noisiness,  amounting  occasionally  to 
a kind  of  joyous  mania,  a morbid  exuberance  of  animal  spirits, 
especially  in  young  cats. 

This  strange  behaviour  of  cats  during  atmospheric  changes 
has  disturbed  the  imaginations  of  many  peoples  at  many  times. 
If  a cat  tears  at  cushions  or  carpets  or  is  generally  uneasy 
she  is  said  to  be  raising  a wind.  This  superstition  is  still 
widely  prevalent  in  seacoast  towns,  on  Cape  Cod  and  else- 
where. Idle  terrors  of  this  character  all  have  for  a basis  the 
science  of  divination,  which  neglects  no  token,  but  from  effects 
overlooked  by  the  ignorant  ascends  through  a sequence  of 
interlinked  causes.  This  science  knows,  for  example,  that 
atmospheric  conditions  which  cause  a dog  to  howl  are  fatal 
to  certain  sufferers,  that  the  monotonous  wheeling  of  ravens, 
who  frequent  localities  of  murder  and  execution,  in  the  air 
means  the  presence  of  unburied  bodies.  The  flight  of  other 
birds  prognosticates  a hard  winter,  while  others  are  haru- 
spices  of  coming  storms.  It  may  even  be  stated  categorically 
that  the  superstition  that  it  is  unlucky  to  walk  under  a ladder 
is  based  on  an  accident  that  has  befallen  some  one  who  has 
done  so.  Perhaps  the  hod-carrier  on  the  ladder  has  dropped 
a brick  on  his  head.  On  that  which  the  mystic  discerns 
ignorance  remarks  and  generalizes.  The  first  sees  useful 
warnings  everywhere,  the  second  is  terrified  by  everything. 
As  a matter  of  fact  the  cat  with  her  superior  nervous  organism 
is  conscious  of  the  approach  of  the  wind  before  man  is  and  the 
condition  of  her  fur  alone  will  indicate  weather  changes  to  the 
careful  observer. 

It  Is  a common  notion  that  the  weather  will  change  if  a cat 
sneezes,  scratches  the  leg  of  a table,  or  sits  with  her  tail  to  the 
fire.  Erasmus  Darwin,  the  grandfather  of  the  author  of 
“ The  Origin  of  Species,”  in  a poem,  ” Signs  of  Foul  Weather,” 
notes  the  behaviour  of  the  cat  at  the  approach  of  a storm. 


1 1 1 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Puss  on  the  hearth,  with  velvet  paws. 

Sits  wiping  o’er  his  whiskered  jaws. 

“ She  useth,”  writes  John  Swan,  in  his  “ Speculum  Mundi  ” 
(Cambridge,  1634),  “therefore  to  wash  her  face  with  her 
feet,  which  she  licketh  and  moiseneth  with  her  tongue;  and  it 
is  observed  by  some  that  if  she  put  her  feet  beyond  the  crown 
of  her  head  in  this  kind  of  washing,  it  is  a sign  of  rain.”  In 
his  “ Hesperides  ” Herrick  refers  to  this  belief: 

True  calendars  as  pusses  eare, 

IV asli  t o’er  to  tell  what  change  is  neare. 

But  there  is  another  old  English  saying  which  has  it  that 
when  the  cat  wipes  her  face  over  her  ears  it  is  a sign  of  fine 
weather  and  when  a cat  sits  with  her  back  towards  the  fire  it 
is  a sign  of  frost.  Willsford  remarks  quaintly  enough: 
“ Cats  coveting  the  fire  more  than  ordinary  or  licking  their  feet 
or  trimming  the  hair  of  their  heads  and  mustachios  presages  a 
storm.”  There  is  something  in  the  superstition  assuredly. 
Moncrif  noticed  that  cats  opened  or  closed  their  fur  accord- 
ing to  the  weather  and  I have  observed  that  cats  lick  their  fur 
more  than  ordinarily  in  an  atmosphere  surcharged  with  mois- 
ture, just  as  they  dry  themselves  with  their  tongues  when  they 
get  wet.  But  cats  always  wash  their  faces  after  dinner,  fol- 
lowing the  custom  of  the  Romans  rather  than  that  of  the 
Americans  in  this  respect.  A folk-tale  has  it  that  a cat  caught 
a sparrow  who  observed,  “ No  gentleman  eats  before  wash- 
ing his  face.”  The  cat  relinquished  his  hold  on  the  bird  to 
prove  himself  a gentleman  and  the  sparrow  flew  away.  Since 
that  date  cats  have  found  it  wiser  to  wash  after  dinner. 
They  also  wash  themselves  to  sleep.  “ Oh ! that  all  females 
made  as  good  use  of  their  tongues,”  apostrophizes  one  Isobel 
Hill.  If  a cat’s  washing  indicates  bad  weather,  failure  to  do 
so  indicates  a sick  cat.  “ The  cat  cleans  her  face  with  a look 


1 12 


MINETTE  WASHES 

From  a drawing  by  Gottfried  Mind 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

of  delight  ” is  the  phrase  of  John  Clare.  My  Feathers  puts 
her  paw  over  her  crown  rain  or  shine.  Who  has  described  the 
operation  more  delightfully  than  Leigh  Hunt?  “ Pussy  . . . 
symbolically  gives  a twist  of  a yawn,  and  a lick  to  her  whiskers. 
Now  she  proceeds  to  clean  herself  all  over,  having  a just  sense 
of  the  demands  of  her  elegant  person, — beginning  judiciously 
with  her  paws,  and  fetching  amazing  tongues  at  her  hind-hips. 
Anon,  she  scratches  her  neck  with  a foot  of  rapid  delight; 
leaning  her  head  towards  it,  and  shutting  her  eyes,  half  to  ac- 
commodate the  action  of  the  skin,  and  half  to  enjoy  the  luxury. 
She  then  rewards  her  paws  with  a few  more  touches;  look 
at  the  action  of  her  head  and  neck,  how  pleasing  it  is,  the 
ears  pointed  forward,  and  the  neck  gently  arching  to  and  fro ! 
Finally  she  gives  a sneeze,  and  another  twist  of  mouth  and 
whiskers,  and  then,  curling  her  tail  towards  her  front  claws, 
settles  herself  on  her  hind  quarters,  in  an  attitude  of  bland 
meditation.” 

The  cat’s  relation  to  the  weather  is  recognized  in  these 
United  States,  although  different  districts  are  not  in  agree- 
ment as  to  the  meaning  of  the  signs.  In  Eastern  Kansas  a 
cat  washing  her  face  before  breakfast  foretells  rain;  in  New 
England  a cat  washes  her  face  in  the  parlor  before  a shower; 
in  Western  Maine  rain  is  assured  if  the  cat  scratches  a fence. 
It  is  held  also  in  Western  Maine  that  when  a cat  is  sharpening 
her  claws  the  way  her  tail  points  shows  the  direction  in  which 
the  wind  will  blow  the  next  day.  In  Eastern  Massachusetts 
the  face  of  the  washing  cat  points  toward  the  direction  from 
which  the  wind  will  blow.  In  New  York  and  Pennsylvania 
the  mere  washing  of  the  face  signifies  clear  weather.  If  you 
see  a cat  looking  out  of  the  window  you  may  be  certain  that 
it  will  storm  soon,  according  to  the  inhabitants  of  Central 
Maine,  where  there  must  be  continual  storms  because  a cat  in 
the  house  will  spend  half  the  day  gazing,  out  of  the  window. 
The  belief  in  Cambridge,  Massachussetts,  that  if  the  fur  shines 

II3 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

and  looks  glossy  it  is  a sign  that  it  will  be  pleasant  the  follow- 
ing day  is  credibled^ 

The  belief  held  in  Scilly  Cove,  Newfoundland,  that  a cat 
drowning  in  salt-water  will  bring  on  rain  is  directly  in  line 
with  certain  precepts  of  ceremonial  magic.  According  to 
W.  W.  Skeat  if  a Malay  woman  puts  an  inverted  earthen- 
ware pan  upon  her  head  and  then,  setting  it  on  the  ground, 
fills  it  with  water  and  washes  a cat  in  it  till  the  animal  is 
nearly  drowned,  heavy  rain  will  certainly  follow.  In  this  per- 
formance the  inverted  bowl  is  intended  to  symbolize  the  vault 
of  heaven.  A similar  custom  prevails  in  Java  where  usually 
two  cats  are  bathed,  a male  and  a female.  Sometimes  the 
animals  are  carried  in  procession  with  music.  In  Batavia, 
also  children  carry  cats  around  for  this  purpose.  After  duck- 
ing them  in  pools  they  release  them.  In  Southern  Celebes  the 
inhabitants  attempt  to  create  a shower  by  carrying  a cat  tied 
in  a sedan  chair  thrice  around  the  parched  fields,  while  they 
drench  him  with  bamboo  squirts.  When  the  cat  mews  they 
cry,  “ O Lord,  let  rain  fall  upon  us!  ” In  a village  of  Su- 
matra to  procure  rain  the  women  wade  into  the  river,  and 
splash  one  another.  A black  cat  is  thrown  in  and  made  to 
swim,  and  then  is  allowed  to  escape  pursued  by  splashing 
women. 

Other  superstitions  surround  the  cat.  “ In  the  eyes  of  the 
superstitious,”  writes  Mr.  T.  F.  Thiselton  Dyer,  “ there  is 
scarcely  a movement  of  the  cat  which  is  not  supposed  to  have 
some  significance.”  If  a cat  jumps  over  a coffin  she  must  be 
killed  or  great  misfortune  is  sure  to  follow.  The  Chinese  be- 
lieve that  a cat  can  cause  the  dead  to  rise  in  this  manner. 
As  this  would  frequently  prove  awkward  to  the  heirs  and 
assigns  cats  are  kept  as  far  as  possible  from  dead  people  in 
China.  In  case,  however,  the  accident  occurs  it  becomes  nec- 

1® These  examples  are  from  Fanny  D.  Bergen’s  “Animal  and  Plant  Lore, 
collected  from  the  oral  tradition  of  English  speaking  people.” 

19  “ Malay  Magic.” 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

essary  to  swat  the  resurrected  dead  man  with  a broom  where- 
upon he  will  become  recumbent  again.  “ My  name,”  de- 
clares the  sorrowful  vampire  in  James  Branch  Cabell’s  incom- 
parable “ Jurgen,”  ” is  Florimel,  because  my  nature  no  less 
than  my  person  was  as  beautiful  as  the  flowers  of  the  field  and 
as  sweet  as  the  honey  which  the  bees  (who  furnish  us  with 
such  admirable  examples  of  industry)  get  out  of  these  flowers. 
But  a sad  misfortune  changed  all  this.  For  I chanced  one 
day  to  fall  ill  and  die  (which,  of  course,  might  happen  to 
anyone),  and  as  my  funeral  was  leaving  the  house  the  cat 
jumped  over  my  coffin.  That  was  a terrible  misfortune  to  be- 
fall a poor  girl  so  generally  respected,  and  in  wide  demand 
as  a seamstress;  though,  even  then,  the  worst  might  have  been 
averted  had  not  my  sister-in-law  been  of  what  they  call  a 
humane  disposition  and  foolishly  attached  to  the  cat.  So  they 
did  not  kill  it,  and  I,  of  course,  became  a vampire.”  Another 
superstition  has  it  that  if  a cat  jumps  over  a corpse  the  soul 
of  the  deceased  enters  its  body.  There  is  a reference  to  this 
superstition  of  the  cat  and  the  dead  in  ” Bleak  House.” 
When  Lady  Dedlock’s  miserable  lover  dies  the  doctor  drives 
Krook’s  cat  out  of  the  room.  “ Don’t  leave  the  cat  there!  ” 
he  says.  “That  won’t  do!”  Lady  Jane  goes  furtively 
downstairs,  winding  her  lithe  tail  and  licking  her  lips.  In 
one  of  Ambrose  Bierce’s  horror  stories  a cat  conceals  her- 
self in  a coffin  and  mangles  the  features  of  the  corpse.  But 
a superstition  prevails  in  Devonshire  that  a cat  will  not  remain 
in  a house  with  an  unburied  corpse  and  stories  are  often  told 
of  cats,  who,  on  the  death  of  one  of  the  inmates  of  a house, 
have  disappeared  and  not  returned  until  after  the  funeral. 
According  to  one  authority  in  spiritualism  (Elliott  O’Donnell: 
“Animal  Ghosts”)  cats  sceyit  death,  that  is  they  smell  the 
presence  of  the  guiding  spirit  who  has  come  to  take  the  new 
soul  away.  “ Before  a death  in  a house  I have  watched  a 
cat  gradually  showing  signs  of  uneasiness.  It  has  moved 
20  “John  Mortonson’s  Funeral”  in  “Can  Such  Things  Be?” 

II5 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

from  place  to  place,  unable  to  settle  in  any  one  spot  for  any 
length  of  time,  had  frequent  fits  of  shivering,  gone  to  the  door, 
sniffed  the  atmosphere,  thrown  back  its  head  and  mewed  in  a 
low,  plaintive  key,  and  shown  the  greatest  reluctance  to  being 
alone  in  the  dark.”  In  Germany  the  presence  of  a cat  on 
the  bed  of  a sick  person  means  that  death  is  approaching  and 
to  this  day  black  cats  are  kept  away  from  children’s  cradles. 
There  is  a legend,  indeed,  to  the  effect  that  cats  suck  children’s 
breaths  in  their  sleep,  a silly  legend  as  Harrison  Weir  has 
pointed  out,  for  the  jaw  formation  of  the  cat  is  not  adapted 
for  sucking  purposes.  The  factual  foundation  for  this  belief 
is  that  cats,  liking  warm  and  luxurious  places  to  lie,  frequently 
creep  into  cradles  and  if  the  cat  is  big  enough  it  may  happen 
occasionally  that  a baby  may  be  accidentally  smothered. 

If  a kitten  comes  to  the  house  in  the  morning  it  is  lucky; 
if  in  the  evening  it  portends  evil  unless  it  stays  to  prevent  it. 
In  Scotland  if  a white  cat  enters  the  house  it  is  regarded  as  a 
forerunner  of  sickness  or  trouble;  if,  however,  a black  cat 
enters  it  is  regarded  as  a harbinger  of  good  luck,  and  he  who 
presumes  to  kill  or  drown  the  animal  may  expect  ill  luck  for 
nine  years.  The  sneezing  of  a cat  on  a wedding  day  is  said 
to  be  a fortunate  omen  for  the  bride.  In  Lancashire  it  is  re- 
garded as  unlucky  to  allow  a cat  to  die  in  the  house;  hence 
when  they  are  ill  they  are  usually  drowned,  which  is  certainly 
unlucky  for  the  cats.  It  is  likewise  a Lancashire  superstition 
that  those  who  play  with  cats  never  enjoy  good  health.  But 
the  magnetism  of  the  cat  and  her  repose  should  have  the 
most  beneficial  influence  on  human  health.  Louis  Wain, 
whose  word  may  be  said  to  have  some  weight  on  this  subject, 
offers  the  following  evidence:  “ I have  found  as  a result  of 

many  years  of  inquiry  and  study,  that  people  who  keep  cats 
and  are  in  the  habit  of  petting  them,  do  not  suffer  from  those 
petty  ailments  which  all  flesh  is  heir  to.  Rheumatism  and 
nervous  complaints  are  uncommon  with  them,  and  pussy’s  lov- 
ers are  of  the  sweetest  temperament.  I have  often  felt  the 

1 16 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

benefit,  after  a long  spell  of  mental  effort,  of  having  my  cats 
sitting  across  my  shoulders,  or  of  half  an  hour’s  chat  with 
Peter.” 

Another  English  country  superstition  is  that  black  cats  will 
bring  lovers  to  a girl.  The  rhyme  goes  as  follows : 

Whenever  the  cat  o’  the  house  is  black, 

The  lasses  o’  lovers  will  have  no  lack, 

and  another  amusing  folk-rhyme  has  it: 

Kiss  the  black  cat. 

An  ’twill  make  ye  fat; 

Kiss  the  white  one, 

’Twill  make  ye  lean. 

But  what  will  happen  if  you  kiss  a tortoise-shell,  a tabby,  or  a 
blue  cat  does  not  appear  to  be  certain.  These  rhymes  are  to 
be  found  in  Hone’s  ‘‘  Every-Day  Book  ” which  gives  us  fur- 
ther particulars  about  the  strange  customs  of  cats:  In  Devon- 

shire and  Wiltshire  it  is  believed  that  a May  cat  or,  in  other 
words,  a cat  born  in  the  month  of  May,  will  never  catch 
any  rats  or  mice,  but  contrary  to  the  wont  of  cats,  will  bring 
into  the  house  snakes,  and  slow-worms,  and  other  disagreeable 
reptiles.  In  Hungary  there  is  a superstition  that  before  a 
cat  can  become  a good  mouser  he  must  be  stolen.  If  a man 
with  a cat’s  hair  on  his  clothing  rides,  his  horse  will  perspire 
violently  and  will  soon  become  exhausted.  If  the  wind  blows 
over  a cat  riding  in  a vehicle  that  too  will  weary  the  horse. 
There  is  a further  superstition  that  on  the  death  of  a tom  cat 
the  life  will  depart  from  all  his  unborn  progeny.  The  Japan- 
ese have  a superstition  that  if  you  rub  a bamboo  brush  on  the 
back  of  a female  she  can  conceive  of  herself.  In  Cumberland, 
England,  it  is  believed  that  the  hair  of  a cat  if  swallowed  by 
a human  being  will  turn  into  a kitten  inside  him. 

Cats  in  the  Isle  of  Man  have  no  tails;  neither  have  those  of 
the  Bismarck  Archipelago  off  the  North  Coast  of  New  Guinea. 

I17 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Natives  sometimes  eat  cats  and  unscrupulous  neighbours  might 
steal  a cat  for  a meal.  Accordingly  in  the  interest  of  the 
higher  morality  people  remove  this  stumbling  block  from  the 
path  of  their  weaker  brothers  by  docking  their  cats  and  keep- 
ing the  severed  portion  in  a secret  place.  If  now  a cat  is 
stolen  and  eaten  the  lawful  owner  of  the  animal  has  It  in  his 
power  to  avenge  the  crime.  He  need  only  bury  the  piece 
of  tail  with  certain  spells  in  the  ground  and  the  thief  will 
fall  ill.  If  a South  Slavonian  has  a mind  to  pilfer  or  steal 
at  market,  he  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  burn  a blind  cat,  and 
then  throw  a pinch  of  the  ashes  over  the  person  with  whom 
he  Is  higgling;  after  that  he  can  take  what  he  likes  from  the 
booth,  and  the  owner  will  be  none  the  wiser,  having  become 
as  blind  as  the  dead  cat  with  whose  ashes  he  has  been 
sprinkled.^^ 

In  the  United  States  Fanny  Bergen  has  collected  numberless 
examples  of  these  curious  superstitions  concerning  cats.  In 
New  England  it  is  bad  luck  to  kill  a cat.  In  Pennsylvania 
it  is  believed  that  if  a farmer  kills  a cat  some  of  his  stock 
will  die.  Cats  of  three  colours  bring  luck  in  Canada, 
Washington,  and  Eastern  Kansas.  Japanese  sailors  share 
this  superstition.  In  Eastern  Kansas  the  possession  of 
a tortoise-shell  is  a surety  against  fire.  In  New  England  a 
“ smutty-nosed  ” cat  brings  prosperity  to  its  owner  and  in 
Maine  a white  cat  brings  poverty.  In  Massachussetts  a 
double-pawed  cat  is  a lucky  omen  but  In  New  York  a black 
and  white  cat  Is  sure  to  bring  sickness  to  the  family.  The 
belief  that  it  is  bad  luck  to  allow  a black  cat“^  to  cross  your 

21  From  Frazer’s  “The  Golden  Bough.” 

22  “ I slink  away,  being  superstitious  regarding  cherry-coloured  cats,  step- 
ladders,  and  cross-eyed  theatre  managers,”  writes  James  Huneker  in  “ Bedouins,” 
p.  142. 

In  a poem  by  Susan  K.  Phillips,  the  following  lines  occur; 

I’m  no  nvay  superstitious  as  the  person  called  our  Mat, 

When  he’d  none  sail  %vith  the  herring  fleet,  ’cause  he  met  old  Susie’s  cat. 

I18 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

path  is  pretty  general  in  the  United  States  and  elsewhere  as 
well.  But  to  be  followed  by  a black  cat  signifies  good  luck 
in  New  England  and  Eastern  Kansas.  In  Eastern  New  Eng- 
land you  are  sure  to  quarrel  with  any  one  to  whom  you  have 
presented  a cat.  In  Alabama  if  a cat  washes  her  face  in  front 
of  several  persons  the  first  she  looks  at  will  be  the  first  to  get 
married.  In  Eastern  Kansas  it  is  unlucky  to  move  into  a 
house  where  cats  have  been  left  by  former  occupants.  Their 
owners  should  have  killed  the  animals.  In  some  parts  of  the 
United  States  it  is  considered  bad  luck  to  move  a cat  when  the 
family  moves;  in  other  parts  it  is  considered  bad  luck  not  to 
move  the  cat.  In  Ohio  (Hamilton  County)  it  is  believed 
that  a child  who  plays  with  a cat  will  become  stupid.  Cats 
go  mad  if  allowed  to  eat  too  much  meat  or  if  they  lie  much 
before  a fire,  according  to  authorities  who  live  in  Brookline, 
Massachussetts.  And  in  Maryland  there  is  a superstition  that 
if  you  shave  off  a cat’s  whiskers  you  deprive  him  of  his  sense 
of  smell ! 

The  Negro  superstitions  concerning  cats,  connected  as  they 
are  with  ancient  African  voodoo  worship  and  noxious  paludal 
ceremonies,  are  extremely  curious.  One  has  it  that  in  the  tip 
of  every  cat’s  tail  are  three  hairs  of  the  devil,  which  give  the 
cat  a tendency  to  prowl.  Sandy  Jenkins,  the  hero  of  James 
David  Corrothers’s  “ The  Black  Cat  Club,”  “ was  dressed  to 
kill;  his  linen  was  spotless;  his  clothing  faultless;  his  cane, 
chrysanthemum,  and  patent  leathers  matchless,”  and  under 
one  arm  he  carried  his  black  cat,  Mesmerizer,  to  hoodoo  his 
enemies.  In  some  verses,  called  “ De  Black  Cat  Crossed  his 
Tuck  ” in  this  same  book  Mr.  Corrothers  epitomizes  the 
Negro  feeling  about  the  animal.  An  old  Negro  named  Sambo 
Lee  was  “ cotched  ” by  a Black  Cat,  and  cursed.  Sam  lost 
his  job,  was  bit  by  a policeman’s  dog,  beaten  by  the  policeman, 
put  in  jail,  quarreled  with  his  wife’s  mother,  lost  his  “ lady- 

“ Animal  and  Plant  Lore,  collected  from  the  oral  tradition  of  English 
speaking  people.”  24  p^gg 

II9 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

lub,”  was  worsted  at  fisticuffs,  was  robbed,  and  spent  three 
weeks  In  a hospital  as  a direct  result  of  this  curse. 

Den  to  de  cunjah-man  Sam  sped. 

An  dis  am  wliut  de  cunjah-man  said: 

“ Black  Cat  am  a pow’ful  man; 

Ruinin’  mo’tals  am  his  plan. 

Ole  Satan  an  de  ’Riginal  Sin 
Am  de  daddy  an  mammy  o’  him. 

He’s  got  nine  hunderd  an  ninety-nine  Vibes  — 

Nineteen  thousan  an  ninety-nine  wibes  — 

He’s  kin  to  cholera  an’  allied 
To  smallpox  on  de  mammy’s  side. 

A n all  de  ebils  on  de  earf 
Stahted  at  de  Black  Cat’s  birf!  — 

Jes’  stop  an  die  right  ivhah  you’s  at, 

Ef  yo’  luck  bin  crossed  by  de  ole  Black  Cat!” 

An  den  Sam  read  in  history 

Dat  a cat  crossed  Pharaoh  by  de  see. 

An’  hurried  him,  as  sho’s  you  bo’n. 

Too  deep  to  heah  ole  Gabriel’s  ho’nf 
A n dat  de  cat  crossed  Jonah  once. 

An’  made  him  ack  a regular  dunce. 

Crossed  Bonaparte  at  Waterloo, 

An’  got  Jeems  Blaine  defeated  too. 

"Oh,  Laud  a-mussy  now  on  me!” 

Cried  Sam,  “an  on  dis  history!” 

An’  den  Sam  went  an  killed  de  cat  — 

Swo’e  he’d  make  an  end  o’  dat;  — 

Burried  him  in  de  light  o’  de  moon, 

Wid  a rabbit’s  foot  an  a silver  spoon. 

But  de  Black  Cat  riz,  an  swallered  him  whole  — 

Bunt  his  house  an  took  his  soul! 

The  terrifying  consequences  of  killing  a cat  are  referred  to 
again  In  a poem  by  Virginia  Frazer  Boyle: 

“ I Kilt  er  Cat”:  These  verses  may  be  found  on  page  89  of  Graham  R. 
Tomson’s  anthology,  “ Concerning  Cats.” 

120 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

Dars  er  shakiti  an  er  achin’  ermongst  dese  ole  bones. 

And  I cries  in  de  night  wid  de  ’miseration  moans. 

An  I hears  sumpin  ’mawkin  wid  er  solemn  sorter  groans  — 

I kilt  er  cat! 

I feels  an  I knows  dat  dars  sumpin  ain  right, 

’Ca’se  er  black  streek’s  er  ’pearing  in  de  broad  daylight. 

An  de  debbil  he  rid  my  chist  all  night  — 

I kilt  er  cat! 

* * * * 

I wan  ers  res’less  lack,  all  erbout  frough  de  wood, 

Wid  de  rabbit  jut  fur  comp’ny,  but  hit  cain’t  do  any  good. 

An  dese  ole  feets  cain’t  be  quiet,  an  dey  wouldn  ef  dey  could  — 

I kilt  er  cat! 

***** 

I droivns  ’im  in  de  water,  but  he  sneakted  out  ergin. 

Den  I feels  dat  I ’mittin  er  mos  awful  kind  er  sin. 

Fur  I hangs  ’im  ’dout  er  chance  an  I cain’t  furgit  ’is  grin  — 

I kilt  er  cat! 

Hab  mercy  on  dis  darky,  oh!  I cain’t  git  shet  er  dat. 

Fur  I sees  de  porten’s  pintin  des  es  shore’s  I sees  dis  hat, 

Fs  hoodooed  wid  de  sperrit  uv  ole  Jonas’s  black  cat  — 

Fur  I kilt  dat  cat! 

“ Wizard  cats,”  writes  Frank  Hamel,  “ have  been  known 
to  do  serious  harm  to  those  against  whom  they  have  a grudge, 
and  it  is  well  to  be  sure,  if  you  value  your  life,  whether  you 
are  dealing  with  a real  animal  or  a ‘ familiar  ’ when  you  feel 
angry.”  There  is,  for  example,  the  very  moral  story  of  the 
young  man  of  Radnorshire  who  threw  a stone  at  a cat  on  his 
wedding  day.  His  health  began  to  fail  at  once  and  he  fre- 
quently disappeared  for  weeks  at  a time.  During  these  peri- 
ods the  legend  has  it  that  he  took  feline  form.  After  his 
death  his  soul  entered  a cat’s  body  and  the  animal  prowled  the 
district  at  night  and  struck  terror  into  the  hearts  of  naughty 
children. 


I2I 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Sailors  are  almost  as  superstitious  as  negroes  about  cats, 
but  the  superstition  assumes  a more  favourable  form.  Evi- 
dence that  the  sailor  loves  puss  may  be  gathered  from  the 
number  of  words  used  on  board  ship  derived  from  the  word 
cat.  In  certain  sea-coast  towns  in  England  sailors’  wives  keep 
black  cats  to  protect  their  husbands  at  sea.  The  liveliness 
of  a ship  cat  portends  a wind  and  the  drowning  of  a ship  cat 
seems  to  be  fatal  for  all  on  board  as  well  as  for  the  cat  him- 
self. Japanese  sailors  regard  three-coloured  cats  (black, 
white,  and  brown),  as  an  excellent  charm  against  spirits  and 
are  said  to  be  unwilling  to  put  to  sea  without  one.  A well 
known  superstition  has  it  that  a cat  will  desert  a ship  about  to 
start  on  its  last  voyage  and  there  is  evidence  to  show  that 
sailors  have  refused  to  undertake  voyages  following  the  deser- 
tion of  the  ship’s  cat.“® 

Charles  Henry  Ross  in  “ The  Book  of  Cats  ” quotes  an 
anonymous  author  on  the  meaning  of  cat  dreams.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  Dr.  Freud  might  not  agree  with  these  conclusions  at 
all  points:  “ If  any  one  dreams  that  he  hath  encountered  a 

cat  or  killed  one,  he  will  commit  a thief  to  prison  and  prosecute 
him  to  the  death,  as  the  cat  signifies  a common  thief.  If  he 
dreams  that  he  eats  the  cat’s  flesh  he  will  have  the  goods  of 
the  thief  who  robbed  him.  If  he  dreams  that  he  hath  the 
skin  then  he  will  have  all  the  thief’s  goods.  If  any  one  dreams 
that  he  fought  with  a cat  who  scratched  him  sorely,  that  de- 
notes some  sickness  or  affliction.” 

28  On  page  276  of  “ Rabbits,  Cats  and  Cavies,”  C.  H.  Lane  quotes  the  follow- 
ing story:  “The  morning  before  the  recent  accident  to  H.  M.  Destroyer  Salmon, 

that  vessel  was  lying  alongside  of  H.  M.  S.  Sturgeon.  Upon  the  former  vessel 
dwelt  two  cats,  the  special  pets  of  the  crew,  and  who  had  never  been  known  to 
show  the  slightest  inclination  to  leave  the  ship.  But  on  this  particular  morning 
in  spite  of  being  chased  by  the  crew  and  worried  by  the  dogs,  the  cats  never 
faltered  in  their  determination  to  get  off  the  Salmon  and  on  to  the  Sturgeon. 
And  when  the  first-named  destroyer  had  weighed  anchor  for  what  was  to  prove 
the  disastrous  voyage,  the  cats  made  one  last  spring  as  the  vessels  separated,  and 
landed  on  the  deck  of  H.  M.  S.  Sturgeon.” 

122 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

There  are  cat  remedies : a cure  for  erysipelas  was  to  cut 
off  a cat’s  ear  (or  to  take  three  drops  of  blood  drawn  from  a 
vein  under  the  cat’s  tail)  and  allow  the  blood  to  drop  slowly 
on  the  affected  part.  The  brain  of  a cat,  taken  in  small  doses, 
has  been  used  as  a love  potion.  Ben  Jonson  in  his  Masque  of 
Queens,  makes  a witch  sing  thus: 

I,  from  the  jawes  of  a gardener’s  bitch. 

Did  snatch  these  bones  and  then  leapt  the  ditch; 

Yet  went  I back  to  the  house  againe. 

Killed  the  black  cat  and  here  is  the  brain. 

A nostrum  for  preserving  the  eyesight  was  to  burn  the  head 
of  a black  cat  to  ashes  and  have  a little  dust  blown  into  the 
eyes  three  times  a day.  A whitlow  could  be  cured  by  placing 
the  affected  finger  a quarter  of  an  hour  each  day  in  a cat’s  ear, 
and  the  foot  of  the  wild  cat  was  considered  an  excellent  remedy 
for  erysipelas  and  lameness.  Cat’s  grease  was  a useful  com- 
modity but  of  no  avail  for  magical  or  medicinal  purposes  un- 
less the  cat  made  a voluntary  offering  of  it.  T.  F.  Thiselton 
Dyer,  in  “ English  Folk-Lore,”  quotes  Hunt  as  follows:  “ In 

Cornwall  those  little  gatherings  which  come  on  children’s  eye- 
lids, locally  called  ‘ whilks  ’ and  also  ‘ warts  ’ are  cured  by 
passing  the  tail  of  a black  cat  nine  times  over  the  place.” 

Of  course  Topsell  in  his  quaint  “History  of  Four-footed  Beasts”  (1658)  has 
a good  deal  to  say  on  this  subject:  “ Alsius  prescribeth  a fat  Cat  sod  for  the 

Gowt,  first  taking  the  fat,  and  anointing  therewith  the  sick  part,  and  then 
wetting  wool  or  tow  in  the  same,  and  binding  it  to  the  offending  place.  The 
liver  of  a Cat  dryed  and  beat  to  powder  is  good  against  the  stone:  the  dung 
of  a female  Cat  with  the  claw  of  an  Oul  hanged  about  the  neck  of  a man  that 
hath  had  seven  fits  of  a Quartain  Ague,  cureth  the  same:  a powder  made  of  the 
gall  of  a black  Cat  and  the  weight  of  a groat  thereof  taken  and  mingled  with 
four  crowns  weight  of  Zambach,  helpeth  the  convulsion  and  wr}'ness  of  the 
mouth:  and  if  the  gall  of  a Cat  with  the  black  dung  of  the  same  Cat,  be  burned 
in  perfume  under  a woman  travelling  with  a dead  childe,  it  will  cause  it  pres- 
ently to  come  forthe:  and  Pliny  saith  that  if  a pin,  or  thorn,  or  fish  bone,  stick  in 
one’s  mouth,  let  him  rub  the  inside  of  it  with  a little  cat’s  dung,  and  it  will 
easily  come  forth.  Given  to  a woman  suffering  from  the  flux  with  a little  Rozen 

123 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Possibly  just  here  you  may  grin  a little,  sink  comfortably 
into  your  chair,  and  reflect  that  the  people  of  the  United  States 
are  at  least  superior  to  such  silly  superstitions.  No  assump- 
tion could  be  more  incorrect.”®  Probably  every  one  of  these 
beliefs  has  been  current  in  some  part  of  America  at  one  time  or 
another.  In  certain  parts  of  England  there  is  credence  put 
in  the  statement  that  a cat’s  hair  is  indigestible  and  if  one  is 
swallowed  death  will  ensue.  It  is  possible  that  Americans  do 
not  entertain  this  legend  but  I can  personally  vouch  for  the 
fact  that  every  boy  I knew  as  a child  in  Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa, 
believed  that  a horse  hair  immersed  in  a tumbler  of  water 
would  eventually  turn  into  a snake.  As  for  the  wart  cure, 
we  learn  through  no  less  an  authority  than  Mark  Twain  that 
such  a belief  existed  along  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi. 
When  Huckleberry  Finn  enters  the  pages  of  “ Tom  Saw- 
yer ” he  carries  a dead  cat  with  him,  and  when  Tom  asks 
him  “ what  dead  cats  is  good  for  ” Huck  answers,  “ cure  warts 
with.”  ” But  say,”queries  Tom,  “ how  do  you  cure  ’em  with 
dead  cats?  ” 

“ Why,  you  take  your  cat  and  go  and  get  in  the  graveyard 
’long  about  midnight  when  somebody  that  was  wicked  has  been 
buried;  and  when  it’s  midnight  a devil  will  come,  or  maybe 

and  oil  of  Roses  and  it  stayeth  the  humour;  and  for  a Web  in  the  eye  of  a 
horse,  evening  and  morning  blow  in  the  powder  of  Cat’s  dung  and  it  shall  be 
cured.” 

28  There  is  really  no  panacea,  mystical,  moral,  political,  or  physical,  that 
Americans  will  not  believe  in.  Moncure  Daniel  Conway  gives  the  following 
examples  in  “Demonology  and  Devil-Lore”:  “Dr.  Dyer,  an  eminent  physician 
of  Chicago,  Illinois,  told  me  (1875)  ttiat  a case  occurred  in  that  city  within  his 
personal  knowledge,  where  the  body  of  a woman  who  had  died  of  consumption 
was  taken  out  of  the  grave  and  the  lungs  burned,  under  the  belief  that  she  was 
drawing  after  her  in  the  grave  some  of  her  surviving  relatives.  In  1874,  accord- 
ing to  the  ‘ Providence  Journal,’  in  the  village  of  Peacedale,  Rhode  Island,  Mr. 
William  Rose  dug  up  the  body  of  his  own  daughter  and  burned  her  heart,  under 
the  belief  that  she  was  wasting  away  the  lives  of  other  members  of  his  family.” 
A recent  criminal  trial  in  one  of  the  Middle  Western  States  brought  out  the  fact 
that  many  an  American  pocket,  even  today,  carries  a silver  bullet  as  a talisman 
against  the  witch-cat. 

29  “ Tom  Sawyer,”  Chapter  VI. 


124 


From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publiqtie  des  animaux 


I 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

two  or  three,  but  you  can’t  see  ’em,  you  can  only  hear  some- 
thing like  the  wind,  or  maybe  hear  ’em  talk;  and  when  they’re 
taking  that  feller  away,  you  heave  your  cat  after  ’em  and  say, 
‘ Devil  follow  corpse,  cat  follow  devil,  warts  follow  cat.  I’m 
done  with  ye!’  That’ll  fetch  any  wart.” 

We  no  longer  burn  witches  and  we  no  longer,  in  groups, 
persecute  cats.  Indeed  puss  has  settled  down  to  a life  of  lux- 
ury and  appreciation  which  she  has  not  hitherto  enjoyed  since 
the  days  when  she  watched  the  temple  altars  of  the  Nile,  near 
the  catadupe,  or  strolled  among  the  guests  at  the  Sultan’s  ban- 
quet. If  she  is  no  longer  a god,  at  least  she  is  still  worshipped. 
But  do  not  be  mislead  by  these  signs.  We  have  forgotten  the 
dark  days  but  the  cat  remembers;  the  racial  consciousness,  the 
hereditary  traits  in  cats  are  strong.  And  she  will  never  forget 
her  wild  rides  with  witches,  her  appearances  at  the  Sabbath, 
frequently  attached  to  the  belt  of  the  pythoness,  the  use  of 
her  body  as  a casket  for  the  soul  of  the  sorceress,  her  persecu- 
tion. And  today,  for  that  reason,  she  is  more  in  touch  with 
what  we  call  the  supernatural  than  any  other  animal,  including 
man.  Wood^^  gives  a case  of  a lady  and  her  cat  simultane- 
ously seeing  and  being  variously  affected  mentally  and  physi- 
cally by  a vision  of  an  old  wrinkled  hag.  The  lady  became  the 
victim  of  a helpless  fascination,  of  paralysis  of  mobility  and 

In  her  book,  already  alluded  to,  Fanny  Bergen  gives  a long  list  of  examples 
of  cat  remedy  superstitions  which  are  credited  in  various  parts  of  the  United 
States.  In  Eastern  Kansas  the  skin  of  a black  cat  worn  in  one’s  clothing  will 
cure  rheumatism.  In  Somerset  County,  Maine,  the  blood  of  a black  cat  is  used 
to  cure  shingles.  In  other  parts  of  the  United  States  it  is  believed  that  shingles 
may  be  cured  by  applying  the  freshly  removed  skin  of  a cat  to  the  affected  sur- 
face. A correspondent  from  Western  New  York  wrote  Mrs.  Bergen  in  regard 
to  this:  “This  is  no  hearsay  matter  with  the  writer,  for  in  his  boyhood  he  was 

afflicted  with  this  disease  and  passed  a night  with  the  bloody  skin  of  his  fa- 
vourite pussy  covering  his  left  side  and  the  pit  of  his  stomach.”  In  Eastern 
Massachusetts  this  same  cure  is  prescribed  for  hives,  and  in  Salem,  an  old  Negro 
was  cured  of  consumption  by  this  method.  In  Southern  Illinois  three  hairs  from 
the  tip  of  a black  cat’s  tail  are  sufficient  to  cure  a felon  and  in  the  South  a sty 
may  be  cured  by  brushing  it  nine  times  with  a black  cat’s  tail. 

31  “ Man  and  Beast:  Here  and  Hereafter,”  p.  320. 


125 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

speech,  while  the  cat,  on  the  contrary,  made  frantic  efforts  to 
escape. Perhaps  this  cat  had  had  an  unfortunate  experience 
in  some  past  life  with  the  old  hag;  at  any  rate  other  cats  have 
been  known  to  entertain  a vast  liking  for  spiritualistic  seances. 
Algernon  Blackwood  has  written  an  astoundingly  astute 
story  on  this  theme,  “ A Psychical  Invasion,”  in  which  he 
contrasts  the  effects  of  the  presence  of  spirits  on  a cat  and  a 
dog.  In  an  attempt  to  discover  the  causes  of  certain  phe- 
nomena John  Silence  visits  a house  at  midnight,  accompanied 
by  a dog  and  a cat.  “ Cats  in  particular,  he  believed,  were  al- 
most continuously  conscious  of  a larger  field  of  vision,  too 
detailed  even  for  a photographic  camera,  and  quite  beyond 
the  range  of  normal  human  organs.  He  had,  further,  ob- 
served that  while  dogs  were  usually  terrified  in  the  presence  of 
such  phenomena,  cats  on  the  other  hand  were  soothed  and 
satisfied.  They  welcomed  manifestations  as  something  be- 

82  Elliott  O’Donnell,  in  “Animal  Ghosts”;  William  Rider  and  Son;  London; 
1913,  speaks  of  similar  experiences:  “From  endless  experiments  made  in 

haunted  houses,  I have  proved  to  my  own  satisfaction,  at  least,  that  the  cat 
acts  as  a thoroughly  reliable  psychic  barometer.  The  dog  is  sometimes  unaware 
of  the  proximity  of  the  Unknown.  When  the  ghost  materializes  or  in  some  other 
way  demonstrates  its  advent,  the  dog,  occasionally,  is  wholly  undisturbed  — the 
cat  never.  I have  never  yet  had  a cat  with  me  that  has  not  shown  the  most 
obvious  signs  of  terror  and  uneasiness  both  before  and  during  a superphysical 
manifestation.”  Mr.  O’Donnell  not  only  believes  that  cats  see  ghosts;  he  also 
believes  that  they  have  them.  If  the  curious  reader  will  turn  to  his  book,  he 
may  find  therein  descriptions  of  the  cat-spectres  who  have  returned  to  haunt 
the  scenes  where  they  have  been  tortured.  Mr.  O’Donnell  even  goes  so  far  as 
to  assert  that  there  may  be  something  in  the  superstition  that  occasionally  a black 
tom  cat  is  the  devil  in  animal  form.  “ It  would  be  idle,  of  course,  to  expect 
people  in  these  unmeditative  times  to  believe  that  there  was  ever  the  remotest 
truth  underlying  these  so-called  fantastic  suppositions  of  the  past;  yet,  according 
to  reliable  testimony,  there  are,  at  the  present  moment,  many  houses  in  England 
haunted  by  phantasms  in  the  form  of  black  cats,  of  so  sinister  and  hostile  an 
appearance,  that  one  can  only  assume  that  unless  they  are  the  actual  spirits  of 
cats,  earthbound  through  cruel  and  vicious  propensities,  they  must  be  vice-ele- 
mentals,  i.  e.  spirits  that  have  never  inhabited  any  material  body,  and  which  have 
either  been  generated  by  vicious  thoughts,  or  else  have  been  attracted  to  a spot 
by  some  crime  or  vicious  act  once  perpetrated  there.” 

*8  “John  Silence.” 


126 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

longing  to  their  own  region.”  The  result  of  his  experiment 
justified  his  faith.  The  dog,  an  unusually  courageous  collie, 
was  terrified  beyond  belief  by  the  presence  of  the  spirits  and 
lay  whimpering  in  a corner,  finally,  indeed,  losing  his  sight. 
But  the  cat  I The  doctor  alone  in  the  darkened  room,  with  a 
low  fire,  waited  he  knew  not  what.  ” Smoke  . . . began  to 
wash.  But  the  washing,  the  doctor  noted,  was  by  no  means 
its  real  purpose;  it  only  used  it  to  mask  something  else;  it 
stopped  at  the  most  busy  and  furious  moments  and  began  to 
stare  about  the  room.  Its  thoughts  wandered  absurdly.  It 
peered  intently  at  the  curtains;  at  the  shadowy  corners;  at 
empty  space  above;  leaving  its  body  in  curiously  awkward 
positions  for  whole  minutes  together.”  The  doctor  at  length 
fell  asleep.  Sometime  later  ” a soft  touch  on  the  cheek 
awoke  him.  Something  was  patting  him.  He  sat  up  with 
a jerk,  and  found  himself  staring  into  a pair  of  brilliant  eyes, 
half  green,  half  black.  Smoke’s  face  lay  level  with  his  own; 
and  the  cat  had  climbed  up  with  his  front  paws  upon  his  chest. 
The  lamp  had  burned  low  and  the  fire  was  nearly  out,  yet 
Dr.  Silence  saw  in  a moment  that  the  cat  was  in  an  excited 
state.  It  kneaded  with  its  front  paws  into  his  chest,  shifting 
from  one  to  the  other.  He  felt  them  prodding  against  him. 
It  lifted  a leg  very  carefully  and  patted  his  cheek  gingerly. 
Its  fur,  he  saw,  was  standing  ridgewise  upon  its  back;  the  ears 
were  flattened  back  somewhat;  the  tail  was  switching  sharply. 
The  cat,  of  course,  had  awakened  him  with  a purpose.  . . . 
Two  things  he  became  aware  of  at  once : one  that  Smoke,  while 
excited,  was  pleasurably  excited;  the  other,  that  the  collie  was 
no  longer  visible  upon  the  mat  at  his  feet.  He  had  crept 
away  to  the  corner  of  the  wall  farthest  from  the  window,  and 
lay  watching  the  room  with  wide-open  eyes,  in  which  lurked 
plainly  something  of  alarm.  . . . Smoke  had  jumped  down 
from  the  back  of  the  arm-chair  and  now  occupied  the  middle 
of  the  carpet,  where,  with  tail  erect  and  legs  stiff  as  ramrods, 
it  was  steadily  pacing  backwards  and  forwards  in  a narrow 

127 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

space,  uttering,  as  it  did  so,  those  curious  little  guttural  sounds 
of  pleasure  that  only  an  animal  of  the  feline  species  knows 
how  to  make  expressive  of  supreme  happiness.  Its  stiffened 
legs  and  arched  back  made  It  appear  larger  than  usual,  and  the 
black  visage  wore  a smile  of  beatific  joy.  Its  eyes  blazed 
magnificently;  it  was  in  an  ecstasy.  At  the  end  of  every  few 
paces  it  turned  sharply  and  stalked  back  again  along  the  same 
line,  padding  softly,  and  purring  like  a roll  of  little  muffled 
drums.  It  behaved  precisely  as  though  it  were  rubbing 
against  the  ankles  of  some  one  who  remained  invisible.  A 
thrill  ran  down  the  doctor’s  spine  as  he  stood  and  stared.  . . . 
For  an  Instant,  as  he  watched  It,  the  doctor  was  aware  that  a 
faint  uneasiness  stirred  In  the  depths  of  his  own  being,  focus- 
sing Itself  for  the  moment  upon  this  curious  behaviour  of  the 
uncanny  creature  before  him.  There  rose  in  him  quite  a new 
realization  of  the  mystery  connected  with  the  whole  feline 
tribe,  but  especially  with  that  common  member  of  It,  the  do- 
mestic cat  — their  hidden  lives,  their  strange  aloofness,  their 
Incalculable  subtlety.  How  utterly  remote  from  anything  that 
human  beings  understood  lay  the  sources  of  their  elusive  ac- 
tivities. As  he  watched  the  Indescribable  bearing  of  the  little 
creature  mincing  along  the  strip  of  carpet  under  his  eyes, 
coquetting  with  the  powers  of  darkness,  welcoming,  maybe, 
some  fearsome  visitor,  there  stirred  In  his  heart,  a feeling 
strangely  akin  to  awe.  Its  indifference  to  human  kind.  Its 
serene  superiority  to  the  obvious,  struck  him  forcibly  with 
fresh  meaning;  so  remote,  so  Inaccessible  seemed  the  secret 
purposes  of  its  real  life,  so  alien  to  the  blundering  honesty  of 
other  animals.  Its  absolute  poise  of  bearing  brought  into  his 
mind  the  opium-eater’s  words  that  ‘ no  dignity  is  perfect  which 
does  not  at  some  point  ally  Itself  with  the  mysterious.’  ” 

I do  not  remember  that  Hermes  TrIsmegistus  or  Paracel- 

34  Mr.  Blackwood  has  treated  this  motive  again  in  a more  sentimental  vein  in 
his  story,  “ The  Attic,”  in  the  volume  entitled  “ Pan’s  Garden.” 

128 


The  Cat  and  the  Occult 

sus  mention  the  cat  in  their  alchemystical  formulae,  but  both 
of  these  philosophers  sat  at  the  feet  of  this  animal,  just  as  cer- 
tainly as  later  alchemists  often  found  the  presence  of  grimalkin 
convenient  or  his  body  necessary  in  preparing  some  mixture 
for  the  arcane  cauldron.  Probably  the  sylphs,  gnomes,  un- 
dines, and  salamanders  of  the  Comte  de  Gabalis  were  really 
white,  black,  silver,  and  orange  pussies.  But  I do  not  think 
a magic  system  of  divination  by  cats,  ailuromancy  it  would  be 
called,  has  yet  been  evolved.  He  keeps  his  secrets  too  closely 
to  afford  much  aid  to  the  hierophant.  He  retains  those  in- 
stincts of  transcendental  sensualism,  those  strange  currents 
from  the  past,  which  man  and  even  most  of  the  other  animals, 
especially  the  domestic  animals,  have  exchanged  for  the  in- 
ferior benefits  of  “ civilization.”  He  is  in  touch  with  the 
infinite  and  unknown;  he  remembers  the  cult  of  the  Egyptians 
and  the  strange  secrets  of  Babylon,  the  apozemical  soups  of 
the  sorceress.  He  recognizes  Wotan  in  the  storm  and  Kat- 
schei  in  the  dark  of  the  night.  In  the  flames  he  sees  Loge 
and  Aphrodite  rises  for  him  on  the  waves  of  every  sea.  Eros 
haunts  his  rooftops  and  Diana  directs  his  hunting  expedi- 
tions. Sekhet  and  Pasht  sit  in  the  temples  of  his  imagination. 
All  the  gods,  all  the  devils  are  his  friends;  he  knows  the  fairies, 
the  elves,  and  the  kobolds,  and  stryge  and  vampires  come  when 
he  calls.  The  rustling  of  the  leaves  tells  him  a story,  warns 
him  of  a danger,  and  a flight  of  birds  prophesies  a fair  day. 
The  touch  of  a wall  against  his  whisker  presses  a signal  into 
his  brain  and  the  crackle  of  a dried  fern  under  his  padded  paw 
is  to  him  the  threat  of  a black-handed  camorra.  He  is  Swed- 
enborgian  and  Pagan,  Palladian  and  Kabbalist,  Mohammedan 
and  Jew.  He  walks  on  the  sea  with  Christ  and  on  the  clouds 
with  Buddha.  He  promenades  in  the  poet’s  brain.  He  un- 
derstands and  salutes  the  pale  petunia;  the  esoteric  begonia 
is  his  brother.  The  ithyphallic  rites  of  Heliogabolus  are  as 
familiar  to  him  as  the  cruel  diversions  of  Gille  de  Retz.  He 

129 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

learns  the  meaning  of  the  Signs  of  the  Zodiac,  Solomon’s  Sigil, 
the  Tarot,  the  Ibimorphic  and  Serapian  Triads,  the  Pantacles 
of  the  Planets,  the  Ten  Commandments,  and  Science  and 
Health  while  he  is  yet  a kitten.  Far  from  being  the  appren- 
tice of  the  Wizard,  he  is  more  often  the  Master. 


130 


Chapter  Five:  The  Cat  in  Folklore 

Where  the  cat  came  from  is  a mystery;  you  may  believe  the 
Noah  story  if  you  like.  Wood  says  that  the  Egyptian  Fells 
maniculata  is  the  grandfather  of  our  household  pet,  while 
Lydekker  ^ summons  modern  authorities  to  prove  that  this 
progenitor  was  the  Kaffir  Cat,  a yellowish  cat  with  tiger 
stripes.  Fells  lybica,  which  still  roams  about  northeastern 
Africa,  hunting  at  night  and  living  in  holes  dug  by  other 
animals.  Again,  probably,  for  all  of  this  is  quite  as  uncertain 
as  the  Noah  story,  the  Romans  brought  the  Egyptian  cat  to 
England  some  time  before  the  fifth  century  and  there  is  a 
theory  to  the  effect  that  our  modern  tabby  is  a cross  be- 
tween this  ancient  animal  and  the  British  wild  cat.  This 
theory  does  not  account  for  Persian  and  Angora  cats  at  all  as 
Egyptian  cats  were  short-haired.  A cat  of  Central  Asia,  popu- 
larly known  as  Pallas’s  cat,  is  suspected  of  the  ancestry  of  these 
more  aristocratic  beasts.  As  to  the  alluros  of  the  Greeks, 
I have  already  intimated  that  current  scholarly  opinion,  which, 
of  course,  is  worth  very  little,  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
this  was  not  a cat  at  all,  but  the  snowy-breasted  marten. 

Where  the  cat  is  going  is  equally  a mystery.  “ Every  one 
is  aware,”  writes  Mr.  Andrew  Lang,  “ that  a perfectly  com- 
fortable, well-fed  cat  will  occasionally  come  to  his  house  and 
settle  there,  deserting  a family  by  whom  it  is  lamented,  and 
to  whom  it  could,  if  it  chose,  find  its  way  back  with  ease.  This 
conduct  is  a mystery  which  may  lead  us  to  infer  that  cats  form 
a great  secret  society,  and  that  they  come  and  go  in  pursuance 
of  some  policy  connected  with  education,  or  perhaps  with 

iR.  Lydekker:  “The  Pedigree  of  the  Cat”;  “Knowledge”;  Vol.  20,  p.  181; 
August  2,  1897. 

I3I 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

witchcraft.  We  have  known  a cat  to  abandon  his  home  for 
years.  Once  in  six  months  he  would  return,  and  look  about 
him  with  an  air  of  some  contempt.  ‘ Such,’  he  seemed  to 
say,  ‘ were  my  humble  beginnings.’  ” It  must  be  remembered 
that  the  cat  is  an  oriental  and  all  orientals  are  mysterious. 
There  seems  to  be  even  a canon  of  feline  etiquette  which 
forbids  two  cats  to  meet  and  pass  without  some  display  of 
solemn  formalities,  reminiscent  of  greetings  in  the  Orient 
where  time  is  of  no  particular  value. 

Even  the  derivation  of  the  name  of  the  cat  is  shrouded  in 
darkness.  From  the  Latin  word  felis  we  have  extracted 
feline  but  the  word  cattus  or  catus  came  into  use  as  late  as 
the  fourth  century  A.  D.  and  is  to  be  found  first  in  the  writ- 
ings of  an  agricultural  author,  Palladius,  who  recommends 
that  puss  be  kept  in  artichoke  gardens  as  a protection  against 
rodents  and  moles.  Evagrius  Scholasticus,  a later  Greek 
church  historian,  uses  the  word  catta.  Isidorus  derives  cattus 
from  cattare,  meaning  to  see,  in  reference  doubtless  to  the 
animal’s  vigilance  and  watchfulness.  On  the  other  hand  a 
writer  in  “ Notes  and  Queries  ” declares  that  the  only  lan- 
guage, so  far  as  he  can  ascertain,  in  which  the  word  cat  is 
significant  is  the  Zend,  in  which  the  word  gatu  means  a place, 
a particularly  expressive  word  in  this  connection.  His  infer- 
ence is  that  Persia  is  the  original  home  of  the  cat  and  he  goes 
on  to  say  that  the  cat  was  probably  introduced  from  Persia, 
through  Spain,  into  Europe  because  the  Spanish  word  gato  is 
almost  identical  with  the  Zend.  The  only  flaws  in  this  brill- 
iant philological  reasoning  are  that  the  Spanish  word  is  also 
almost  identical  with  the  late  Latin  and  that  Persian  cats  and 
European  cats  are  two  distinct  breeds.  Adolphe  Pictet  ^ de- 
rives catus  from  an  African  root:  Arab,  kitt^  plural  kitdt; 

Syrian,  kato;  Nubian,  kadiska,  and  in  still  other  African 
tongues,  kaddiska  and  gada.  This  ingenious  etymologist  fur- 
ther thinks  that  puss  comes  from  an  old  Sanskrit  word,  puccha, 
*“Les  Origines  Indo-Europ6ene3  ou  les  Aryas  Primitifs,”  Paris,  1859. 

132 


From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V,  Furness 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

piccha,  meaning  tall.  There  is  a suggestion  of  this  root  in 
the  Persian  pushak;  Afghan,  pishik;  Kurd,  psig;  Lithuanian, 
puize;  Irish  pus,  feisag,  fiseog,  and  feisahi.  A still  more  in- 
genious pundit  thinks  that  the  French  chat  is  an  onomatope  for 
the  cat’s  spitting. 

To  come  to  more  familiar  tongues,  in  Dutch  the  word  is 
kat;  in  Swedish,  katt;  Italian,  gatto;  Portuguese  and  Spanish 
gato;  Polish,  hot;  Russian,  hots;  Turkish,  ket'i;  Welsh,  cath; 
Cornish,  hath;  German,  die  Katze  (a  Frenchman  deploring 
that  chat  is  masculine  in  French,  admires  this  choice  of  gen- 
der) ; Basque,  catua;  Armenian,  kitta;  Picardian,  ca,  co;  Bur- 
gundian, chai;  Catalonian,  gat.  The  antique  rituals  in  the 
Louvre  give  the  Egyptian  name  as  mau,  mai,  niaau.^  These 
and  the  Chinese  word,  mao,  seem  the  most  natural  of  all. 

In  every  language  allusions  to  the  cat  are  sprinkled  as 
thickly  as  currants  in  a good  fruit-cake.  Many  of  these  take 
the  form  of  derivative  words,  the  formation  of  a good  half  of 
which  is  as  mysterious  as  puss  herself.  Others  are  metaphor- 
ical or  proverbial,  and  have  a bearing  on  the  popular  ideas, 
prejudices,  and  superstitions  concerning  the  cat.  Murray’s 
Oxford  Dictionary  devotes  two  full  pages  to  cat  and  its  de- 
rivative words;  nor  is  the  list  in  Murray  by  any  means  ex- 
haustive. Many  of  the  following  examples  are  from  other 
sources. 

There  are,  to  begin  with,  the  sea-terms,  which  seem  to  offer 
cumulative  evidence  that  the  cat  is  a favourite  marine  animal. 
There  is  the  cat-boat,  which  formerly  was  called  merely  the 
cat,  and  some  students  of  folklore  have  tried  to  prove  that 
this  was  the  kind  of  cat  Dick  Whittington  owned.  The  sig- 
nificance of  catamaran,  another  variety  of  boat,  which  rights 
itself  in  a surf,  is  quite  clear.  The  word  is  derived  from  the 
Italian,  gatta  marina,  and  is  an  allusion  to  the  faculty  the  cat 
possesses  of  falling  on  his  feet.  Cat  is  also  the  name  for  a 
tackle  or  combination  of  pulleys  used  to  suspend  the  anchor 

® Some  Egyptologists  have  read  ckaou  on  certain  monuments. 

133 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

at  the  cat’s-head  of  a ship.  Cat-harping  is  the  name  for  a 
purchase  of  ropes  employed  to  brace  the  shrouds  in  the  lower 
masts  behind  their  yards.  The  cat-fall  is  the  rope  employed 
upon  the  cat’s-head  and  the  cat-hook  is  a large  hook  fitted  to 
a cat-block,  by  which  the  anchor  is  raised  to  the  cat’s-head. 
Two  little  holes  astern,  above  the  gun-room  ports,  are  called 
cat-holes.  A cat’s-paw  is  a particular  turn  in  the  bight  of  a 
rope  made  to  work  a tackle  in  and  it  is  also  the  rippling  on 
the  water  made  by  light  air  during  a calm,  which  resembles  the 
slight  disturbance  made  in  a pool  when  a cat  delicately 
troubles  the  surface  with  his  paw.  Lastly  there  is  the  terrible 
cat-o-nine-tails.  Folklorists  have  discovered  cross  references. 
“ How  is  it?  ” asks  David  Fitzgerald,  “ that  we  find  the  nine- 
tailed cat  (a  magical  cat  with  no  allusion  to  the  scourge)  in  the 
legends  of  the  Goban  Saor?  And  a cat  with  ten  tails  in  Scot- 
tish counting-out  rhymes,  and  the  phrase  to  ‘ whip  the  cat  ’ for 
to  work  against,  among  the  tailors  of  Crieff?  ” 

Many  plants  are  named  after  cats:  cat-briar,  an  American- 
ism for  smilax,  which  I offer  to  H.  L.  Mencken;  cat-chop, 
which  I have  not  identified;  cat-haw,  the  fruit  of  the  haw- 

* “ The  Cat  in  Legend  and  Myth”;  “Belgravia”;  London;  November  1885. 
“The  Norwegian  gorging  cat  (whose  history  we  once  heard  well  related  by 
Mr.  Ralston)  swallows  the  man  and  wife  (‘goodman’  and  ‘goody’  in  the  trans- 
lator’s dialect),  a number  of  animals,  a wedding  party,  and  a funeral  train,  and 
the  sun  and  moon  — all  of  which  he  disgorges  as  wonderfully  as  they  are 
swallowed  down  . . .”  continues  Mr.  Fitzgerald.  “ In  Ireland  this  same  an- 
cient monster  appeared  in  at  least  six  forms.  He  is  Kate  Kearney’s  cat,  oldest 
of  things  (As  old  as  Kate  Kearney’s  cat  is  an  Irish  proverb).  He  is  the  pro- 
verbial cat  that  ate  the  year.  He  is  the  dreadful  cat  o’  leasa.  He  is  the  piping 
cat,  sculptured  on  ancient  crosses,  and  figuring  on  tavern  signs.  He  is  the  cat 
with  two  tails,  cat  with  ten  tails,  cat  with  nine  tails,  of  the  Goban  Saor.  And 
he  is  the  cat  in  (seven-leagued)  boots. — The  myth  further  appears  among  the 
Iroquois  Indians  in  the  shape  of  a two-headed  serpent  which  devours  the  nation, 
all  but  one  man  and  woman;  slain,  however,  it  rolls  into  a lake  and  disgorges 
them  all.  This  two-headed  dragon  appears  in  Ireland  as  a bi-tailed  cat,  as  the 
Cat  of  the  Fort,  cat  a’  leasa,  a colossal  monster,  circling  the  hill  in  a coil  miles 
long.  . . . The  twy-tailed  cat  (Day  and  Night?)  was  sculptured  at  Holycross 
Abbey,  Tipperary,  and  in  the  French  chapel  at  Canterbury.”  Angelo  de  Guber- 

134 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

thorne;  cat-in-clover,  blrd’s-foot  trefoil;  cat-keys,  the  fruit  of 
the  ash-tree;  cat-sloe,  the  wild  sloe;  cat-succory,  wild  succory; 
cat’s-head,  a variety  of  apple  and  also  a fossil,  cat-trail,  the 
beloved  valerian;  cat-thyme,  a species  of  teucrium  which 
causes  sneezing;  cat-tree,  spindle  tree;  the  familiar  cat-tails 
and  catnip;  catkins,  imperfect  flowers  hanging  from  trees  in 
the  manner  of  a cat’s  tail;  cat’s-foot,  an  herb;  and  curiously 
enough,  cat-whin  or  dog-rose  1 

In  American  slang  one  old  cat  is  a kind  of  primitive  base- 
ball game.  Letting  the  old  cat  die  is  to  allow  a swing  to 
prove  that  there  is  no  such  phenomenon  as  perpetual  motion. 
As  the  swing  sags  back  and  forth  eight  or  nine  times  after 
you  have  stopped  pushing  it  this  phrase  possibly  has  reference 
to  the  nine  lives  of  the  cat.  Cattycornered,  meaning  diagon- 
ally opposite  or  across,  has  reference  to  the  oblique  move- 
ments of  the  cat.  Scat  is  an  interjection  used  to  tell  puss  to 
make  a speedy  departure.  Pussyfoot  is  a term  derived  from 
the  cat’s  padded  paws  and  stealthy  approach  but  no  cat  in 
the  world  would  be  in  favour  of  prohibition  of  any  variety. 
In  English  thieves’  slang  cat  signifies  a lady’s  muff.  A kind  of 
double  tripod  with  six  feet,  intended  to  hold  a plate  before 
the  fire  and  so  constructed  that  in  whatever  position  it  is 
placed  three  of  the  legs  rest  on  the  ground  is  called  a cat  from 
the  belief  that  however  a cat  may  be  thrown  she  always 
lands  on  her  feet.  The  enemies  of  the  feline  race  say  “ as 
false  as  a cat  ” and  it  is  from  this  phrase  that  the  terms 
cat’s  gold  and  cat’s  silver,  the  common  names  for  mica  on  ac- 

natis,  too,  is  infected  with  this  familiar  and  somewhat  silly  method  of  trying  to 
explain  all  folk-stories  symbolically.  In  “ Zoological  Mythology,  or  the  Legends 
of  Animals,”  he  gives  it  as  his  belief  that  the  celebrated  fable  of  the  Kilkenny 
Cats  may  mean  the  mythological  contest  between  night  and  twilight.  God  pity 
these  men ! 

Moncure  Daniel  Conway  (“Demonology  and  Devil-Lore”)  refers  to  a similar 
legend:  Thor,  the  Norse  Hercules,  once  tried  to  lift  a cat,  as  it  seemed  to  him, 
off  the  ground,  but  it  was  the  great  mid-earth  serpent  which  encircles  the  whole 
world.  Thor  succeeded  in  lifting  one  paw  of  the  supposed  cat. 

135 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

count  of  its  deceptive  appearance,  are  derived.  There  are 
sea-cats,  cat-fish,  cat-birds,  cat-squirrels,  and  cat-owls,  or  fly- 
ing cats.  A French  word  for  owl  is  chat-huant.  Cat’s-eye 
is  a well-known  semi-precious  stone.  Cat’s  purr  is  a thrill  felt 
over  the  region  of  the  heart  in  certain  diseases.  Cat’s  tooth 
is  white-lead  ore  from  Ireland;  cat-brain,  a soil  consisting  of 
rough  clay  mixed  with  stones;  cat-dirt  a kind  of  clay.  Cat- 
collops  is  cat-meat  and  the  cat’s  meat  man,  a familiar  London 
figure,  is  frequently  referred  to  as  the  pussy  butcher.  Cat- 
face  is  a mark  in  lumber  wood;  cat-ice,  thin  ice  of  a milky  ap- 
pearance from  under  which  the  water  has  receded.  Cat-nap 
is  a short  nap  taken  while  sitting;  cat-ladder  a kind  of  ladder 
used  on  sloping  roofs  of  houses;  cat-steps,  the  projections  of 
the  stones  in  the  slanting  part  of  the  gable;  cat-pipe,  an  arti- 
ficial cat-call.  Puss  gentleman  is  eighteenth  century  for  cata- 
mite. Kitty  is  a common  poker  term.  Copy  cat  is  a mis- 
nomer because  cats  never  copy  anybody.  A common  phrase 
for  an  unusual  event  is  “ enough  to  make  a cat  laugh,”  but  the 
Cheshire  Cat  in  “ Alice  in  Wonderland  ” is  not  the  only 
recorded  example  of  a laughing  cat.  “ Enough  to  make  a 
cat  speak  ” is  a similar  expression,  but  as  I have  pointed  out 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  speaking  cats  are  almost  a com- 
monplace. Cat’s  paw  is  a reference  to  a monkey’s  idle  jest. 
Salt-cat  is  a mess  of  coarse  meal  placed  in  a dove-cote  to  al- 
lure strangers.  A cat’s  walk  is  a little  way  and  back.  To 
jerk,  shoot,  or  whip  the  cat  means  to  vomit.  Cat-harrow, 
Cat  and  Dog,  Cat  or  Kit-Cat  ® are  games.  It  was  once  a trick 
of  farmers  to  bring  a cat  to  market  in  a bag  and  sell  it  for 
a suckling  pig  to  the  unwary.  If  the  purchaser  discovered  the 
deception  he  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag;  if  he  did  not  he  was 
said  to  have  bought  a pig  in  a poke.  Both  expressions  have 
become  proverbial.  An  island  in  the  Bahama  group  is  named 
Cat  Island  and  Moncrif  writes  of  the  Cape  of  Cats.  You 

® Kit-Cat  and  Cat  and  Dog  are  described  in  William  Carew  Hazlitt’s  “ Faiths 
and  Folklore.” 

136 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

may  have  heard  of  the  Catskills.  An  ancestor  of  mine,  Der- 
rick Tennis  Van  Vechten,®  was  the  founder  of  the  extremely 
unimportant  town  in  New  York  bearing  that  name.  Cat 
was  a movable  pent-house  used  in  the  middle  ages  by  be- 
siegers to  protect  themselves  when  approaching  fortifications. 
It  was  also  called  a cat-house;'^  something  else  is  called  a 
cat-house  in  modern  times,  just  as  certain  pretty  ladies  in 
London  and  Geisha  girls  in  Japan  are  called  cats. 

All  languages  are  rich  in  cat  proverbs,  many  of  which  ap- 
pear to  have  been  the  inventions  of  those  who  believe  what 
Buffon  and  Noah  Webster  had  to  say  about  the  animal. 
Many  others  have  reference  to  the  cat’s  prowess  and  special 
instincts,  a few  to  her  grace  and  beauty.  Plutarch,  when  in 
Egypt,  heard  the  proverb.  An  overdressed  lady  is  like  a 
cat  dressed  in  saffron.  An  old  Chinese  saying  is,  A lame  cat 
is  better  than  a swift  horse  when  rats  infest  the  palace.  It 
is  not  the  fleas  of  dogs  that  will  make  cats  mew,  is  also  Chi- 
nese. A Japanese  proverb  has  it  that  A dog  will  remember 
a three  days’  kindness  three  years  while  a cat  will  forget  a 
three  years’  kindness  in  three  days.  This  may  be  regarded 
as  a compliment  to  the  intelligence  of  the  cat.  A Hindu  say- 
ing is.  If  you  want  to  know  what  a tiger  is  like,  look  at  a cat; 
if  you  want  to  know  what  a thug  is  like,  look  at  a butcher.  I 
am  inclined  to  agree  with  Lockwood  Kipling  that  only  the 
first  half  of  this  proverb  is  true.  As  cats  are  sometimes  slung 
in  a net  in  India,  a proverb  descriptive  of  sudden  success  is 
The  cat  is  in  luck;  the  net  is  torn.  I was  not  so  angry  at  the 
cat  for  stealing  the  butter  as  at  her  wagging  her  tail  shows 

® “ Catskill  was  settled  about  1680  by  Derrick  Teunis  Van  Vechten”:  Encyclo- 
pedia Americana;  1918;  Vol.  6,  p.  108. 

’’  Morley  Adams  in  his  book,  “ In  the  Footsteps  of  Borrow  and  Fitzgerald  ” 
(p.  113),  speaks  of  the  Cat-House  on  the  River  Orwell:  “This  little  lodge 

played  an  important  part  in  the  smuggling  which  took  place  hereabouts  a cen- 
tury ago,  the  occupants,  if  report  be  true,  being  in  league  with  the  contraband 
men.  When  the  ‘ coast  was  clear  ’ a large  stuffed  cat  was  displayed  in  the  win- 
dow, and  when  the  preventative  men  were  on  the  look-out  the  cat  was  taken 
away.” 


137 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

that  Hindu  humanity  is  not  so  very  different  in  some  respects 
from  European  or  American.  Of  a hypocrite  the  Hindu 
remarks:  The  cat,  with  mouse  tails  still  hanging  out  of  her 

mouth,  says  — ‘ Now  I feel  good,  I will  go  on  a pilgrimage  to 
Mecca  ! ’ The  Indian  cat  miyaus;  so  one  says  to  a child  or 
a servant.  What ! my  own  cat,  and  miyau  at  me  1 The  cat 
does  not  catch  mice  for  God  is  a priceless  bit  of  wisdom. 
Even  a cat  is  a lion  in  her  own  lair  is  said  of  mild-tempered 
people  who  fly  into  sudden  rages.  A cat’s  moon  is  a Kash- 
miri expression  for  a sleepless  night.  It  is  also  in  Kashmir 
that  they  say.  If  cats  had  wings  there  would  be  no  ducks  in 
the  lake.  An  Indian  mother  will  say  to  an  idle  girl.  Did  the 
cat  sneeze  or  what?  A sneering  proverb  has  it.  In  a learned 
house  even  the  cat  is  learned.  A sly  man  is  said  to  look  like 
a drowned  cat;  a live  cat  is  said  to  be  better  than  a dead  tiger. 
It  is  easy  to  understand  the  meaning  of  The  cowed  cat  allows 
even  a mouse  to  bite  its  ears  but  did  the  thing  ever  happen?® 
John  Hay”  gives,  A miawling  cat  takes  no  mice  as  a Span- 
ish proverb  but,  of  course,  this  occurs  in  every  language. 
Other  Spanish  proverbs  are  They  whip  the  cat  if  our  mistress 
does  not  spin;  The  mouse  does  not  go  away  with  a bellyful 
from  the  cat’s  house;  When  the  cats  go  away  the  mice  grow 
saucy;  Don’t  turn  the  cat  out  of  the  house  for  being  a thief 
(spoken  of  those  who  expect  what  is  contrary  to  nature  from 
servants)  ; Let  us  see  who  will  carry  the  cat  to  water;  and 
The  meat  is  on  the  hook  because  there  is  no  cat.  The  Por- 
tuguese say:  The  cat  is  certainly  friendly  but  it  scratches.  A 
charming  Russian  proverb  says:  The  day  is  young,  said  the 

cat,  remembering  that  he  could  wait.  Plays  of  cat,  tears  of 
mice  is  also  Russian.  The  cat  will  catch  fish  but  he  does  not 
soil  his  paws  is  German.  A delightful  Italian  saying  is: 
Four  things  are  necessary  for  a home:  grain,  a cock,  a cat,  and 
a wife. 

® These  examples  arc  from  John  Lockwood  Kipling’s  “ Beast  and  Man  in 
India.”  ® “ Castilian  Days.” 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

The  available  examples  of  cat  proverbs  in  English  are 
so  very  numerous  that  I must  content  myself  with  giving  only 
a few  of  them.  Some  of  these  are  true  folk-sayings;  others 
have  become  popular  through  their  appearance  in  plays  and 
novels.  Care  will  kill  a cat.  A muffled  cat  is  no  good 

mouser.  The  cat  is  out  of  kind  that  sweet  milk  will  not  lap. 

You  can  have  no  more  of  a cat  than  her  skin,  a proverb  which 
does  not  take  into  account  the  French  custom  of  using  puss  for 
rabbit  stew.^*’  When  the  cat  winketh  little  wots  the  mouse 

1®  As  one  of  Raoul  Gineste’s  poems  has  it: 

. . . sur  un  feu  doux,  dans  une  casserole, 

Tes  morceaux  chanteront  I’ultime  barcarolle, 

Car  I’homme  est  sans  scrupule  et  le  lapin  est  cher. 

“ A cat,”  writes  Browne,  in  his  “ Natural  History  of  Jamaica,”  “ is  a very  dainty 
dish  among  the  Negroes.”  The  Portuguese  eat  the  cat,  according  to  Darwin. 
The  Abbe  Lenoir  informs  us  that  the  Chinese  consider  the  cat  excellent  food  and 
that  in  their  provision  shops  enormous  felines  are  hung  up  with  their  heads  and 
tails  on.  They  are  bred  on  farms,  secured  by  light  chains,  and  fattened  with  the 
remains  of  the  rice  cooked  for  the  family.  Edward  Topsell,  who  is  as  quotable 
as  Bernard  Shaw,  and  much  more  amusing,  in  his  “ History  of  Four-Footed 
Beasts”  (1658)  writes:  “It  is  reported  that  the  flesh  of  Cats  salted  and  sweet- 

ened hath  power  in  it  to  draw  wens  from  the  body,  and  being  warmed  to  cure 
the  Hemmorhoids  and  pains  in  the  reins  and  back,  according  to  the  Verse  of 
Ursinus.  In  Spain  and  Gallia  Norbon,  they  eat  Cats,  but  first  of  all  take  away 
their  head  and  tail,  and  hang  the  prepared  flesh  a night  or  two  in  the  open 
cold  air,  to  exhale  the  savour  and  poison  of  it,  finding  the  flesh  thereof  almost  a." 
sweet  as  a cony.”  Topsell,  however,  does  not  approve  of  this  practice:  “The 

flesh  of  Cats  can  seldom  be  free  from  poison,  by  reason  of  their  daily  food,  eat- 
ing Rats  and  Mice,  Wrens  and  other  birds  which  feed  on  poison,  and  above  all 
the  brain  of  the  Cat  is  most  venomous,  for  it  being  above  all  measure  dry,  stop- 
peth  the  animal  spirits,  that  they  cannot  pass  into  the  venticle,  by  reason  thereof 
memory  faileth,  and  the  infected  person  falleth  into  a Phrenzie.  The  cure 
whereof  may  be  this,  take  the  water  of  sweet  majoram  with  terra  lemnia  the 
wneight  of  a groat  mingled  together,  and  drink  it  twice  a month,  putting  good 
store  of  spirits  into  all  your  meat  to  recreate  the  spirits  withall,  let  him  drink 
pure  wine,  wherein  put  the  seed  of  Diamoschu.  But  a Cat  doth  as  much  harm 
with  her  venomous  teeth,  therefore  to  cure  her  biting,  they  prescribe  a good  diet, 
sometimes  taking  Honey,  turpentine,  and  Oil  of  Roses  melt  together  and  laid  to 
the  wound  with  Centory;  sometimes  they  wash  the  wound  with  the  urine  of  a 
man,  and  lay  to  it  the  brains  of  some  other  beast  and  pure  wine  mingled  both 
together.  The  hair  also  of  a Cat  being  eaten  unawares,  stoppeth  the  artery  and 
causeth  suffocation:  and  I have  heard  that  when  a childe  hath  gotten  the  hair 

139 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

what  the  cat  thinketh.  Fain  would  the  cat  eat  fish  but  she  is 

loth  to  wet  her  feet.  The  cat  sees  not  the  mouse  ever. 
Though  the  cat  winks  awhile,  yet  sure  she  is  not  blind.  The 
more  you  rub  a cat  on  her  back  the  higher  she  sets  up  her  tail. 
Well  might  the  cat  wink  when  both  her  eyes  were  out.  How 
can  the  cat  help  it  if  the  maid  be  a fool?  That  that  comes  of 
a cat  will  catch  mice.  A cat  may  look  at  a king.  An  old  cat 
laps  as  much  as  a young  kitten.  When  the  cat  is  away  the 
mice  will  play.  The  cat  knows  whose  lips  she  licks.  Cry 
you  mercy  killed  my  cat  (this  was  spoken  of  those  who 
played  tricks  and  then  tried  to  escape  punishment  by  beg- 
ging pardon).  When  candles  are  out  all  cats  are  grey.  By 
biting  and  scratching  cats  and  dogs  come  together.  I’ll  keep 
no  more  cats  than  will  catch  mice.  A cat  has  nine  lives  and 
a woman  has  nine  cats’  lives.  Cats  eat  what  hussies  spare. 
In  October  not  even  a cat  is  to  be  found  in  London.  A good 
wife  and  a good  cat  are  best  at  home.  A cat  will  never  drown 
if  she  sees  the  shore.  An  ugly  cat  will  have  pretty  kittens. 
The  cat  with  the  straw  tail  sitteth  not  before  the  fire.  Cats 
hide  their  claws.  The  wandering  cat  gets  many  a rap.  The 
cat  is  hungry  when  a crust  contents  her.  He  lives  under  the 
sign  of  the  cat’s  foot  (his  wife  scratches  him).  A blate  cat 
makes  a proud  mouse  is  a Scotch  form  of  saying  that  a stupid 
or  timid  foe  is  not  to  be  feared.  A dead  cat  feels  no  cold. 
A piece  of  kid  is  worth  two  of  cat.  A scaulded  cat  fears  cold 
water  is  a translation  of  the  French  Chat  echaude  craint  V eau 
froide.  As  melancholy  as  a cat,  or  as  melancholy  as  a gib- 
cat  is  a common  pbrase  in  England.  “ I am  melancholy  as 
a gib-cat  or  lugged  bear,”  says  a Shakespearean  character. 

of  a Cat  in  his  mouth,  it  hath  so  cloven  and  stuck  to  the  place  that  it  could  not 
be  gotten  off  again,  and  hath  in  that  place  bred  either  the  wens  or  the  King’s 
evill.  To  conclude  this  point  it  appeareth  that  this  is  a dangerous  beast,  and 
that  therefore  as  for  necessity  we  are  constrained  to  nourish  them  for  the  sup- 
pressing of  small  vermin:  so  with  a wary  and  discreet  eye  we  must  avoid  their 
harms,  making  more  account  of  their  use  than  of  their  persons.” 

140 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

It  should  be  explained  that  toms  are  called  gib  or  ram-cats 
in  Northern  England.  In  Pepys’s  Diary  for  November  29, 
1667,  for  instance,  you  may  read:  “Our  young  gib-cat  did 

leap  down  our  stairs  ...  at  two  leaps.”  To  turn  the  cat 
in  the  pan  is  to  reverse  the  order  of  things.  Before  the  cat 
can  lick  her  ear,  of  course,  means  never.  Cats  and  carlins  sit 
in  the  sun.  Denham’s  “Popular  Sayings”  (1846)  gives 
Every  day’s  no  yule;  cast  the  cat  a castock,  which  is  to  say 
spare  no  expense,  bring  another  bottle  of  beer.  In  reference 
to  the  cat’s  elusiveness  an  old  saying  has  it:  He  bydes  as 

fast  as  a cat  bound  with  a sacer.  He  can  hold  the  cat  to  the 
sun  is  said  of  a man  of  extreme  daring. 

The  French  are  quite  as  prolific  as  the  English  in  proverbs 
referring  to  the  cat.  Note,  for  example,  this  charming  aph- 
orism, which  is  entirely  Parisian:  The  three  animals  that 

spend  the  most  time  over  their  toilet  are  cats,  flies,  and 
women.  To  run  very  swiftly  without  tiring  oneself  is  courir 
comme  iin  chat  maigre.  Discordant  music  is  line  musique  de 
chats.  The  sudden  embarrassment  which  results  in  the  loss 
of  voice  is  caused  by  un  chat  dans  la  gorge.  The  equivalent 
English  saying  employs  the  humbler  frog.  A person  who 
likes  delicate  things  is  friande  comme  chatte.  He  who  writes 
illegibly  ecrit  comme  un  chat.  Trying  to  inspire  pity  is  faire 
la  chatte  moiiillee.  To  pass  rapidly  over  a delicate  situation, 
to  skate  on  thin  ice,  to  use  the  English  parallel  expression,  is 
passer  par-dessus  comme  chat  sur  braise.  To  look  clean  and 
yet  not  be  clean  is  to  be  propre  comme  une  ecuelle  de  chat. 
Vivre  comme  chien  et  chat  has  its  exact  equivalent  in  English. 

Gib  or  Gyb  is  an  abbreviation  of  Gilbert;  in  Europe  this  frequently  became 
Tybalt  or  Tybert,  Tyb  or  Tib.  Mercutio  insults  Tybalt  on  this  score.  “ Gibbe 
is  the  Icelandic  gabba,  to  delude,  and  our  gibber,”  writes  Moncure  Daniel  Con- 
way (“Demonology  and  Devil-lore”;  Vol.  II,  p.  313).  “It  is  the  Gib  cat  of 
‘ Reinicke  Fuchs,’  and  of  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose.’  In  Gammer  Gurton  we 
read  ‘ Hath  no  man  gelded  Gyb,  her  cat’;  and  in  Henry  IV,  ‘ I am  as  melancholy 
as  a gib  cat.’  Another  cat  is  called  Inges,  that  is  ignis,  fire.”  Another  old  Eng- 
lish name  for  the  male  cat  was  carl-cat,  and  boar-cat  was  not  uncommon. 

I4I 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Dignitaries  who  wear  fur  on  their  costumes  of  ceremony  are 
called  chats  fourres.  To  look  surly  is  avoir  une  mine  de 
chat  fdche.  Faire  la  chattemite  is  to  effect  humble,  flatter- 
ing manners.  If  there  is  nobody  present,  il  n y a pas  un  chat. 
If  by  weakness  or  negligence  one  permits  oneself  to  be  de- 
ceived, on  laisse  aller  le  chat  au  fromage.  Le  chat  a faim 
quand  il  mange  du  pain  is  said  of  those  who  eat  what  does 
not  altogether  please  them,  but  cats  often  like  to  eat  bread, 
indeed  sometimes  prefer  it  to  other  food.  To  expose  one- 
self to  danger  without  taking  precaution  is  prendre  le  chat 
sans  mitaines.  There  are  several  French  variations  of  this 
phrase,  which  also  occurs  in  English,  and  probably  in  many 
other  languages  as  well.  On  ne  prend  pas  le  chat  sans 
moufles  and  Chat  emmoufle  ne  prend  pas  souris  are  the  most 
common.  Gourmand  comme  un  chat  is  said  of  gluttons.  To 
torment  an  adversary  is  jouer  comme  le  chat  avec  la  souris. 
Of  a dangerous  or  impossible  situation  one  says  C’est  le  nid 
d' une  souris  dans  Voreille  d’un  chat.  To  watch  everybody 
is  avoir  un  oeil  a la  poele  et  1’ autre  au  chat.  Those  who  are 
always  conciliating  never  jettent  le  chat  au.x  jambes  de  per- 
sonae. Jeter  sa  langiie  au  chat  is  to  refuse  to  respond  to 
an  embarrassing  question.  Ache  ter  chat  en  poche  is,  of 
course,  as  English  as  it  is  French.  One  also  says  in  French 
ache  ter  le  chat  pour  le  lievre,  a pretty  custom  which  I have 
already  touched  upon.  La  nuit  tous  les  chats  sont  gris  I 
have  given  in  its  English  dress;  in  its  French  form  it  occurs 
in  Beaumarchais’s  Le  Barhier  de  Seville.  A hon  chat,  bon 
rat:  for  a good  attack,  good  defence.  As  it  is  in  the  kitchen 
that  the  cat  most  frequently  is  scaulded  one  says  Chat  echaude 
ne  revient  pas  en  cuisine.  The  meaning  of  the  following 
proverbs  is  quite  obvious:  Qui  naquit  chat  court  apres  les 

souris;  On  ne  saurait  retenir  le  chat  quand  il  a goute  a la 
creme;  Il  fait  le  saint,  il  fait  le  chat;  Qui  vit  avec  les  chats 
prendra  gout  aux  souris;  Les  chats  retombent  toujours  sur 
les  pattes;  Il  ne  faut  pas  faire  passer  tous  les  chats  pour 

142 


IL  NE  FAUT  PAS  FAIRE  PASSER  TOUS  LES  CHATS  POUR  SORCIERS  ” 

From  a drawing  by  Grandvillc  in  J'ie  privee  et  puhlique  des  animaux 


V 


r* 

\ 

I 


k.' 

- 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

sorciers;  Quand  les  chats  sont  absents  les  sotiris  dansent, 
which  is  our;  When  the  cat’s  away  the  mice  will  play;  Faire 
tirer  au  chat  les  marrons  du  feu  is  a reference  to  the  fable 
of  the  cat  and  the  ape.  Entendre  hien  chat  sans  qidon  disc 
ininon  is  to  have  the  wit  to  comprehend  things  quickly. 
According  to  a thirteenth  century  proverb  La  ou  kas  n’est, 
li  souris  se  tient  fiere.  Faire  de  la  houillie  pour  les  chats 
is  to  be  careless.  To  take  French  leave  is  emporter  le  chat. 
Avoir  d’autres  chats  a fouetter  is  to  have  other  fish  to  fry. 
Of  something  insignificant  one  says:  II  n’y  a pas  de  quoi  fouet- 
ter un  chat.  A ppeler  un  chat  un  chat  has  an  English 
parallel.  So  has  Ne  reveillons  pas  le  chat  qui  dort.  Payer 
en  chats  et  en  rats  is  to  pay  in  driblets.  There  are  rhymed 
proverbs  such  as: 

C’est  chasser  le  chat  bien  tard 
Quand  il  a mange  le  lard. 

A tard  se  repent  le  rat 
Quand  par  le  col  le  tient  le  chat. 

Chat  mioleur  ne  fut  oncques  grand  chasseur. 

Non  plus  que  sage  homme  grand  cacqueteur. 


In  the  Temple  of  Liberty  which  Tiberius  Gracchus  erected 
in  Rome,  the  goddess  was  represented  holding  a sceptre  in 
one  hand  and  a cap  in  the  other,  while  at  her  feet  reposed  a 
cat,  the  symbol  of  freedom.  “ The  company  of  soldiers. 
Or  dines  Augustei,  who  marched  under  the  command  of  the 
Colonel  of  Infantry,  sub  Magistro  peditum,  bore  on  their 
‘ white  ’ or  ‘ silver  ’ shield,  a cat  of  the  colour  of  the  mineral 
prase,  which  is  sinople,  or  sea-green.  The  cat  is  ‘ courant  ’ 
and  turns  its  head  over  its  back.  Another  company  of  the 

12  Felicien  Rops’s  motto,  according  to  James  Huneker,  was  “J’appelle  un  chat 
un  chat.”  “Promenades  of  an  Impressionist,”  p.  35. 

143 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

same  regiment,  called  ‘ the  happy  old  men  ’ {felices  seniores) 
carried  a demi-cat,  red,  on  a buckler  gules ; in  parma  punica 
diluciore,  with  its  paws  up,  as  if  playing  with  some  one. 
Under  the  same  chief,  a third  cat  passant,  gules,  with  one 
eye  and  one  ear,  was  carried  by  the  soldiers  qui  Alpini 
vocabantur.”  The  Vandals  and  the  Suevi  carried  a cat 
sable  upon  their  armorial  bearings,  among  the  Greeks  and 
Romans.  The  cat,  indeed,  plays  no  inconsiderable  part  in 
heraldry.  The  Burgundians  used  the  device  with  the  same 
significance  of  liberty  and  fearlessness  and  Clotilde,  wife  of 
Clovis  the  Burgundian,  chose  for  her  sigel  a cat  sable  spring- 
ing at  a mouse.  Other  noble  houses  were  enamoured  of  the 
emblem.  We  need  exhibit  no  surprise  upon  learning  that 
the  Katzen  family’s  azure  shield  flaunted  a cat  argent  hold- 
ing a rat  nor  that  the  crest  of  the  Della  Gatta  family  of  Naples 
bore  a magnificent  cat  couchant.  Two  cats  argent  on  an 
azure  shield  signified  the  Chetaldie  family  of  Limoges  and 
the  motto  of  the  Scotch  Clann  Chatain  is  “ Touch  not  the  cat 
but  (without)  a glove.”  The  Chaffardon  family  bore  on 
azure  three  cats,  or  two,  full  face  in  chief.  The  cognizance 
of  Richard  III  was  a boar,  passant  argent,  whence  the  rhyme 
which  cost  William  Collingborne  his  life: 

ispalliot:  “ Le  Vraye  et  Parfaicte  Science  des  Armoires”  (Paris,  1664). 

Seumas,  Chief  of  Clann  Fhearghuis  of  Stra-chur,  informs  me  that  the  Clann 
a Chatain  (Children  of  the  Cats)  is  a great  clann  with  six  tribes.  The  Mackin- 
tosh of  Mackintosh  is  Chief  of  this  Clann.  I am  also  indebted  to  Fhearghuis 
for  a translation  of  a song  about  this  Clann: 

The  cats  have  come  upon  us, 

The  cats  have  come  upon  us, 

The  cats  have  come  upon  us. 

They  have  come  upon  us! 

To  break  in  upon  us. 

To  lift  the  spoil. 

To  steal  the  kine. 

To  strike  the  steeds. 

To  strip  the  meads. 

They  have  come! 

144 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

The  Cat,  the  Rat,  and  hovel  our  Dogge, 

Rulen  all  England  under  an  Hogge}^ 

Cervantes,  it  will  be  recalled,  speaks  of  the  “ ever  victorious 
and  never  vanquished  ” Timonel  of  Carcajona,  Prince  of  New 
Biscay,  whose  shield  bore  a golden  cat  and  the  single  word, 
“ Miau  ” in  honour  of  his  lady,  the  lovely  Miaulina,  daughter 
of  the  Alfeniquen  of  the  Algarve.  More  recently  the  tank 
corps  of  the  American  army  carried  on  its  machines  huge 
black  cats  with  snarling  fangs  and  flashing  electric  green  eyes 
and  with  the  motto,  “ Treat  ’em  rough  I ” and  the  insignia  of 
the  Eighty-first  division  of  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces 
were  wild  cats.  The  men  of  this  division,  conscripts  from 
North  and  South  Carolina,  Florida  and  Porto  Rico,  were  the 
pioneers  who  Introduced  the  custom  of  divisional  emblems 
into  the  American  army.  According  to  Col.  Robert  E. 
Wyllie  of  the  General  Staff,  when  the  Eighty-first  division 
arrived  at  Hoboken,  the  port  of  embarkation,  every  man  was 
wearing  the  wild  cat  on  his  left  shoulder.  General  Shanks, 
commander  of  the  port,  immediately  Informed  Washington 
army  headquarters  of  the  novel  distinguishing  mark  of  the 
Carolina  wild  cats  and  asked  if  the  insignia  were  authorized. 
Before  a negative  reply  reached  General  Shanks  the  division 
had  sailed.  When  the  Eighty-first  landed  in  France  the  eyes 
of  every  doughboy  in  other  divisions  were  focussed  on  the 
vicious  feline  and  within  the  week  the  other  divisions  had 
invented  similar  insignia.  So  general,  indeed,  had  the  custom 
become  that  General  Pershing  realized  that  an  order  authoriz- 
ing the  decorations  must  follow.  This  authorization,  so  far  as 
I know,  was  not  issued,  but  the  Insignia  were  never  prohibited 
and,  as  all  who  have  seen  the  returning  soldiers  must  know, 
they  were  eventually  used  by  all  divisions. 

It  is  no  longer  the  general  custom  to  name  shops  or  to  label 

A.  R.  Frey:  “Sobriquets  and  Nicknames”;  Ticknor  and  Co.;  Boston;  1888. 
The  cat  was  William  Catesby,  the  dog,  Lord  Lovel. 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

them  with  fantastic  signboards  but  in  the  old  days  when  such 
fashions  were  in  vogue  cat  signs  were  as  frequent  as  any  others. 
A bookseller  in  London  in  1612  called  his  shop  The  Cat  and 
Parrot.  Other  shops,  or  inns,  bore  such  quaint  titles  as  Cat 
and  Cage,  Cat  and  Lion,  Cat  and  Bagpipes,  and  Cat  and 
Fiddle.  The  Catherine  Wheel  sign  put  up  in  honour  of 
Catherine  of  Aragon,  Queen  of  Henry  VIII,  was  changed 
by  the  Puritans  into  Cat  and  Wheel ! An  old  English  tavern 
was  called  the  Salutation  and  Cat.  This  is  as  good  as  the 
Hotel  of  the  Virgin  Mary  and  the  Prince  of  Wales,  which  I 
once  visited  on  the  Italian  Riviera.  The  name  was  calcu- 
lated to  capture  both  the  Catholic  and  the  English  trade. 

Of  the  French  signs.  La  Maison  dii  Chat  qiii  Pelote  (used 
zy  Balzac),  Le  Chat  qui  Peche,  and  above  all,  Le  Chat  Noir 
are  the  most  common.  The  latter  once  served  for  restaurants 
or  bakeries  but  latterly  it  has  been  identified  with  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  of  the  Paris  cabarets.  The  cabaret  itself  has 
passed  but  the  name  still  persists.  Even  in  New  York  a 
restaurant  carries  it  and  so  does  a well-known  magazine. 
Parisian  shoe-makers  frequently  affected  Le  Chat  Botte. 
Le  Chat  qui  Fume  is  a charming  name.  One  of  Anatole 
France’s  stories  bears  as  its  title  the  name  of  a little  Parisian 
Cafe,  Le  Chat  Maigre.  An  American  dry-cleaning  establish- 
ment uses  a cat  washing  clothes  for  its  trademark. 

The  cat  leaps  through  so  many  nursery  rhymes  in  all  tongues, 
native  and  exotic,  that  every  child  must  know  at  least  half  a 
dozen  of  them.  The  following  lines  seem  to  have  been  pro- 
phetic: 

Jack  Spratt 
Had  a cat; 

It  had  but  one  ear; 

It  went  to  buy  butter. 

When  butter  was  dear. 

This  one  is  charmingly  suggestive : 

146 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

Poor  Dog  Bright, 

Ran  off  with  all  his  might. 

Because  the  cat  was  after  him. 

Poor  Dog  Bright. 

Poor  Cat  Fright, 

Ran  off  with  all  her  might. 

Because  the  dog  was  after  her. 

Poor  Cat  Fright. 

Alphabetical  nursery  rhymes  are  always  popular  with  mothers 
because  they  are  considered  semi-instructive.  Variations  of 
the  following  lines  are  numberless : 

A,  B,  C,  tumble  down  D, 

The  cat’s  in  the  cupboard  and  can’t  see  me. 

A French  version  is: 

A,  B,  C, 

Le  chat  est  alle 

Dans  le  neige;  en  retournant 

H avait  les  souliers  tous  blancs. 


Something  like  this  occurs  also  in  German,  Yiddish,  Russian, 
Patagonian,  and  early  Australian, 

The  rhyme  beginning 

Hey,  diddle,  diddle. 

The  cat  and  the  fiddle. 


is  as  well  known  as  anything  in  Shakespeare.  Nor  can  there 
be  many  who  have  neglected  to  learn 

Ding,  dong,  bell.  Pussy’s  in  the  well. 


or 

Pussy  cat.  Pussy  cat,  where  have  you  been? 

or 

The  three  little  kittens,  they  lost  their  mittens. 

147 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

This  is  a very  pleasant  ditty: 

Hey,  my  kitten,  my  kitten. 

Hey,  my  kitten,  my  deary; 

Such  a sweet  pet  as  this 

W as  neither  far  nor  neary. 

And  this  is  philosophical  and  fatalistic: 

Pussy-cat  ate  the  dumplings,  the  dumplhigs ; 

Pussy-cat  ate  the  dumplings. 

Mamma  stood  by,  and  cried,  “ Oh,  fie! 

Why  did  you  eat  the  dumplings?" 

In  many  other  rhymes  the  cat  is  an  important  figure.  For 
instance  in  the  epic  poem  about  the  woman  who  wanted  to  get 
her  pig  over  the  stile  it  was  the  cat  that  killed  the  rat  and  in 
“ A frog  he  would  a-wooing  go,” 

A cat  and  her  kittens  came  tumbling  in. 

With  a rowley  powley,  gammon  and  spinach. 

There  is  also  the  cat  that  killed  the  rat  that  ate  the  malt  that 
lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  built. 

The  French  rhymes,  while  often  not  so  fantastic,  are  natu- 
rally lovelier.  What  could  be  more  irresistible  than 

Le  chat  sauta  sur  les  souris, 

II  les  croqua  toute  la  nuit. 

Gentil  coquiqui. 

Coco  des  moustaches,  mirlo  joli, 

Gentil  coquiqui. 

Here  is  another: 

Sur  ma  gouttiere  un  four  fe  vis 
JJn  chat  de  bonne  mine 
Qui,  sans  s’occuper  des  souris, 

Miaulait  en  sourdine. 

Ah!  il  m’en  souviendra, 

148 


PRINCE  DORUS  AND  THE  ENCHANTED  CAT 
From  Prince  Dorns  by  Charles  Lamb:  London;  iSii 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

Du  chat  de  ma  voisine. 

LarirUj 

An  old  Mother  Goose  rhyme  has  it  that 

Puss-cat  Mew  jumped  over  a coal; 

In  her  best  petticoat  burnt  a great  hole; 

Puss-cat  Mew  shan’t  have  any  milk 

Till  her  best  petticoat’s  mended  with  silk. 

With  this  verse  for  his  inspiration  E.  H.  Knatchbull-Hugessen 
composed  a fairy  story,  “ Puss-Cat  Mew,”  which  is  a mixture 
of  familiar  folklore  elements:  the  ogres  are  the  giants  of  Jack 
and  the  Beanstalk  and  Joe  Brown,  the  miller’s  son  who  is 
befriended  in  the  magic  forest  by  a tortoise-shell  cat,  who,  of 
course,  at  the  proper  moment  becomes  a beautiful  and 
marriageable  young  lady  and  the  daughter  of  no  less  a per- 
sonage than  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies,  is  easily  recognizable. 
Still  when  I recently  reread  the  story  I again  felt  its  charm  and 
its  thrill  and  the  horrible  man-eating  ogres  still  inspired  terror. 

There  are  so  many  folk-tales  about  cats  that  some  enter- 
prising young  man  of  the  future  may  fill  a large  book  with 
these  alone.  Very  often  the  cat  plays  a cruel  or  reprehen- 
sible part  in  these  stories  but  he  never  plays  a stupid  or  foolish 
role.  In  one  of  La  Fontaine’s  fables,  indeed,  the  cat  outwits 
even  the  fox.  He  is  seldom  lacking  in  wit;  indeed  he  may  be 
regarded  as  the  Till  Eulenspiegel  of  the  animal  world.  It 
is  well  to  remember  Andrew  Lang’s  casual  remark  that  “ Ani- 
mals are  always  most  intelligent  when  most  depraved.”  Of 
the  stories  “Puss  in  Boots’’^®  is  the  most  familiar;  some 
form  of  this  fable  occurs  in  almost  every  language.  Mr. 
Lang  points  out  that  it  is  a “ moral  ” story  in  Russia,  Sicily, 
among  the  Arabs,  and  at  Zanzibar.  In  these  countries  the 
cat  assists  the  man  from  motives  of  gratitude.  In  France, 

1®  Jules-Severin  Caillot  has  written  a pretty  sequel  to  this  tale:  “La  Chatte 
Blanche,”  in  “Contes  apres  les  contes”;  Plon-Nourrit;  Paris;  1919. 

149 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Italy,  India,  and  elsewhere  it  is  an  immoral  story;  the  cat  is 
a swindler  and  the  Marquis  de  Carabas  is  his  accomplice. 
Gaston  de  Paris  is  convinced  that  the  Zanzibar  version  is  the 
original.  In  this  version  the  man  Is  ungrateful  to  the  kind 
beast  and  awakes  to  find  his  prosperity  a dream.  “ The 
White  Cat,”  which  the  Comtesse  D’Aulnoy  gave  to  France  in 
1682  is  a wholly  pretty  story  In  which  the  graceful  feline 
with  her  pattes  de  velours  is  transformed  Into  a princess. 
Gelett  Burgess  has  symbolized  this  theme  In  a novel  bearing 
the  name  of  the  original  sory. 

The  tale  of  Dick  Whittington  and  his  cat  has  afforded  scope 
for  research  work  among  the  English  folklorists  and  historians 
which  still  continues.  W.  R.  S.  Ralston  writes  In  ” The  Nine- 
teenth Century”:  ‘‘There  used  to  exist  In  the  Mercers’ 

Hall  a portrait  of  Whittington,  dated  1536,  in  which  a black- 
and-white  cat  figured  at  his  left  hand.  A still  existing  por- 
trait by  Reginald  Elstrack,  who  flourished  about  1590,  rep- 
resents him  with  his  hand  resting  on  a cat.  The  story  is  told 
that  the  hand  originally  rested  on  a skull,  but  that  In  deference 
to  public  opinion  a cat  was  substituted,  which  proves  that  the 
legend  or  the  history  had  by  that  time  completely  spread. 
That  is  also  proved  by  a reference  to  the  cat  legend  in  Hey- 
wood’s  If  Y oil  Know  Not  Me,  and  by  another  In  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher’s  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle.  Newgate  gaol 
was  rebuilt  by  Whittington’s  executors,  and  a statue,  with  a cat 
at  his  feet,  is  said  to  have  been  set  up  on  the  gate,  and  to  have 
remained  there  until  the  fire  of  1666.  Moreover  a piece  of 
plate  on  which  figured  ‘ heraldic  cats  ’ was  presented  to  the 
Mercers’  company  in  1572;  and  In  the  house  at  Gloucester, 
which  the  Whittingtons  occupied  till  1460,  there  was  dug  up  a 
stone,  when  repairs  were  made  in  1862,  on  which  In  basso 
relievo,  is  represented  the  figure  of  a boy  carrying  in  his  arms 
a cat.  The  workmanship  appears  to  be  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. This  is  all  that  can  be  said  in  favour  of  the  legend. 
Aigalnst  it,  besides  its  Inherent  improbability,  may  be  called  as 

ISO 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

witnesses  many  folk-tales, which  at  least  suggest  that  the 
story  is  one  of  the  commonplaces  of  fiction,  capable  of  being 
associated  with  any  historical  or  fictitious  personage.”  So 
some  destroyers  of  our  belief  in  Santa  Claus  assure  us  that 
Whittington’s  cat  was  a boat,  while  others  affirm  that  trading 
or  buying  and  selling  at  a profit  was  called  achat  and  probably 
pronounced  ” acat  ” in  the  fifteenth  century. 

Moncrif  relates  an  enchanting  Hindu  story,  which,  it  would 
seem  to  me,  has  not  been  retold  sufficiently  often:  At  the 

court  of  Salamgam,  King  of  the  Indies,  a Brahmin  and  a Peni- 
tent each  boasted  that  he  was  the  most  virtuous.  A trial  was 
proposed  and  the  Brahmin  offered  to  ascend  to  the  Heaven  of 
Devendiren  and  return  therefrom  with  the  flower  of  the  tree 
called  Parisadam,  only  indigenous  to  that  particular  celestial 
realm.  He  made  good  his  promise,  returning  with  the  blossom 
to  the  great  astonishment  of  all  the  court  with  the  exception 
of  the  Penitent,  who  refused  to  be  impressed.  ” My  virtue 
is  so  great,”  he  asserted,  ” that  I can  send  my  cat  for  the 
flower  of  Parisadam.”  He  was  requested  to  do  so  and  im- 
mediately the  adorable  Patripatan  ascended  to  the  skies  in 
full  view  of  the  King  and  his  nobles.  Now,  however.  Fate 
interfered  with  the  Penitent’s  plans.  The  Heaven  of  Deven- 
diren was  inhabited  by  forty-eight  million  goddesses  who  had 
for  husbands  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  gods  of  which 
Devendiren  was  the  sovereign.  Now  the  instant  the  favourite 
goddess  of  the  King  of  the  Gods  set  her  eyes  on  Patripatan 
she  made  up  her  mind  to  keep  him  for  her  very  own.  Deven- 
diren, after  he  had  listened  to  the  cat,  explained  to  the  god- 
dess that  Patripatan  was  awaited  with  impatience  by  the 
court  of  Salamgam,  that  the  reputation  of  the  Penitent  was 

Among  the  analogues  of  the  Whittington  story  may  be  mentioned  the  Brit- 
tany black  cat  who  made  silver;  the  Danish  dog  who  barked  money;  and  the 
gold-producing  horse  or,  as  in  the  Midas  story,  a ram  or  swine  with  fleece  or 
bristles  of  gold.  On  page  43  of  W.  R.  S.  Ralston’s  “Russian  Folk-Tales” 
(Smith,  Elder  and  Co.,  London,  1873)  you  may  find  a Russian  story  which  is  very 
similar. 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

at  stake,  and  that  the  greatest  affront  one  could  offer  to  a 
mortal  was  to  steal  his  cat.  The  goddess  listened  inatten- 
tively to  this  argument  and  finally  promised,  as  a special  fa- 
vour to  his  godship,  that  she  would  return  the  beloved  puss 
in  three  centuries.  The  court  waited  through  this  period 
without  any  other  inconvenience  than  impatience  because  the 
Penitent  by  the  power  of  his  virtue  was  able  to  preserve 
everybody’s  youth.  When  the  time  had  elapsed  the  sky  red- 
dened, and  the  cat  appeared  on  a throne  in  a cloud  of  a 
thousand  hues,  bearing  in  his  paws  an  entire  branch  of  the 
tree  of  Parisadam.  I believe  the  King  awarded  the  croix  de 
vertu  to  Patripatan.  The  only  incredible  part  of  the  story 
is  that  the  goddess  should  ever  have  permitted  herself  to  be 
separated  from  a cat  she  had  known  and  loved  for  three  cen- 
turies. 

One  of  the  Japanese  fairy  stories  translated  by  Lafcadio 
Hearn  is  called  “ The  Boy  Who  Drew  Cats.”  This  boy,  the 
son  of  a poor  farmer,  had  been  sent  to  a priest,  so  that  he 
might  be  trained  as  an  acolyte.  The  child,  however,  refused 
to  take  an  interest  in  his  new  studies  and  spent  all  his  time 
drawing  cats.  The  old  priest,  realizing  that  the  boy’s  talent 
was  for  art  rather  than  for  religion,  sent  him  out  into  the 
world.  In  his  wanderings  the  lad  passed  the  night  in  a de- 
serted temple  but  before  he  went  to  sleep  he  could  not  resist 
painting  cats  on  the  naked  white  screens.  In  his  dreams  he 
heard  shrieks  and  in  the  morning  he  awakened  to  find  an 
enormous  goblin-rat  lying  dead  on  the  floor,  while  the  whisk- 
ers and  jaws  of  his  painted  cats  were  red  with  blood. 

An  amusing  Persian  story  tells  of  a long-sighted  cat  with 
fascinating  eyes,  long  whiskers,  and  sharp  teeth,  who  hunted 
like  a lion  in  the  city  of  Kerman.  One  day,  perceiving  the 
wine  cellar  of  his  house  open,  the  cat  walked  in  and  caught  a 
mouse.  Thereafter  he  repented,  went  to  the  mosque,  passed 
his  paws  over  his  face,  poured  water  on  his  paws,  and 
anointed  himself  as  he  had  seen  the  faithful  do  at  the  hours 

152 


JAPANESE  WOMEN  AND  CAT 

From  a Japanese  print  by  Mamaro  in  the  collection  of  Arthur  Davison  Ficke 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

of  prayer.  He  swore  he  would  never  kill  another  mouse, 
praised  Allah,  and  began  to  weep.  The  mice  heard  of  this 
oath  and  held  a celebration;  a few  days  later  the  king  of  the 
mice  suggested  that  gifts  be  carried  to  this  temperate  cat. 
So  the  mice  brought  wine,  mussels  stuffed  with  rice,  raisins, 
and  pignolia  nuts;  melon  seeds  and  lumps  of  cheese;  little 
cakes  iced  with  sugar;  Indian  shawls  and  cloaks.  Upon  the 
receipt  of  these  presents  the  cat  reasoned  thus : “ I am  re- 

warded for  becoming  a pious  Mussulman.  It  is  clear  that 
Allah  is  appeased.”  Then  he  sprang  among  the  mice  and 
killed  a great  number  of  them.  The  others  went  their  way 
in  sorrow.  The  king  of  the  mice,  when  he  heard  of  this  un- 
warranted assault,  declared  war  on  the  cats  and  three  hundred 
and  thirty  thousand  mice  went  forth,  armed  with  swords, 
guns,  and  spears.  The  cats  on  horseback  came  out  to  meet 
them  and  the  armies  fell  upon  each  other.  So  many  cats 
and  mice  were  killed  that  finally  there  was  no  ground  for  the 
horses  to  stand  on.  At  length  the  king  of  the  cats  was  cap- 
tured and  condemned  to  execution.  He  was  carried  to  the 
block,  bound  paw  to  paw,  but  he  burst  his  fetters,  darted  here 
and  there,  seizing  and  slaying  till  the  whole  army  of  mice 
was  routed  and  there  was  none  left  to  oppose  him. 

Gottfried  Keller’s  story  of  “ Spiegel,  das  Katzchen  ” has 
a folk  air  and  was  probably  not  entirely  the  invention  of  the 
author.  A certain  wizard  in  a Swiss  village,  taking  a walk 
one  day,  met  a ram-cat  looking  very  thin  and  miserable.  He 
had  been  the  favourite  feline  of  a rich  old  gentlewoman,  whose 
sudden  death  had  left  him  without  means  of  support.  Now 
cat’s  grease  was  an  invaluable  ingredient  in  certain  magical 
preparations,  but  the  thaumaturglcal  condition  prescribed  that 
the  cat  must  make  a willing  donation  of  it.  The  wizard 
saw  his  opportunity  in  the  present  situation.  Spiegel  was 
hungry  and  he  offered  him  a month’s  luxurious  living  in  re- 
turn for  his  grease.  The  bargain  was  struck  and  the  wizard 
In  “Die  Leute  von  SeldvTyla,”  1856. 

153 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

fitted  up  an  apartment  as  an  artificial  landscape  with  a little 
wood  on  a mountain  and  a little  lake.  Tiny  roasted  birds 
perched  on  the  trees.  Baked  mice,  seasoned  with  stuffing  and 
larded  with  bacon,  peered  out  of  the  mountain  caves.  Fish 
swam  In  the  milk  lake.  Spiegel  enjoyed  himself  but  as  he 
found  himself  getting  very  fat  a ruse  occurred  to  him.  To- 
wards the  end  of  the  month  he  stopped  eating  and  grew  very 
thin  again.  He  continued  this  procedure  every  time  his  waist 
line  Increased  In  size  until  the  wizard  accused  him  of  trying 
to  escape  from  his  bargain.  It  was  on  this  day,  and  no  other, 
that  forcible  feeding  was  Invented!  But  Spiegel  was  again 
inspired;  he  told  the  wizard  that  he  knew  where  10,000  florins 
were  burled  at  the  bottom  of  a well,  waiting  as  the  wedding 
portion  of  a man  who  could  find  a beautiful  and  penniless 
maiden.  The  story  was  false.  The  money  existed  but  a 
curse  lay  upon  It.  The  wizard,  however,  took  Spiegel  on  a 
chain  to  the  well,  saw  the  gold  bricks  and  believed  In  them, 
and  released  his  prisoner.  Now  th?  cat  was  the  friend  of  an 
owl-companlon  to  an  old  hag;  with  the  aid  of  a magic  net 
these  two  contrived  to  seize  the  beldam  and  transform  her 
Into  a personable  young  lady.  In  this  form  she  married  the 
wizard  at  high  noon  as  Is  the  respectable  custom,  but  at  night- 
fall she  regained  her  rightful  shape,  so  that  he  found  himself 
possessed  of  a hag  for  a wife  and  a pot  of  cursed  gold  for 
a dowry.  Spiegel,  of  course,  lived  happily  ever  after. 

Thomas  A.  Janvier  found  the  following  story  among  some 
old  Mexican  papers  and  printed  It  In  “ Stories  of  Old  New 
Spain”:  “It  was  about  the  year  1540  that  the  Reverend 

Father  Friar  Francisco  de  Tembleque  felt  stirring  In  his  heart 
a good  desire  (that,  assuredly,  God  put  there)  to  build  an 
aqueduct  by  which  the  towns  of  Otumba  and  Zempoala  should 
be  supplied  abundantly  with  water  wholesome  to  drink  — 
which  at  that  time  the  people  of  these  towns  were  compelled 
to  bring  from  springs  seven  leagues  away.  And  his  plan  was 
to  make  an  aqueduct  over  all  that  distance,  carrying  it  across 

154 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

three  wide  valleys  on  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  thirty-six 
arches,  and  making  over  the  deepest  of  the  valleys  one  arch 
so  great  that  beneath  it  might  pass  (had  there  been  any  such 
thereabouts)  a ship  under  full  sail.  And  to  this  work  the 
servant  of  God  — for  so  Father  Tembleque  was  called  — set 
himself  with  a stout  heart;  and  the  Indians  worked  for  him 
joyfully.  And  at  the  spot  where  the  great  arch  was  to  be, 
in  what  then  was  a tangle  of  wooded  wild  land,  he  built  a 
little  chapel  to  the  Glory  of  Our  Lady  of  Belen,  and  close 
beside  the  chapel  he  made  for  himself  a cell  so  narrow  that 
scarcely  was  there  room  within  it  for  him  to  lie  down  to 
sleep. 

“ And  God  showed  his  love  to  his  servant  by  giving  to 
dwell  with  him  a grey  cat,  which  every  day  from  the  wild 
woodland  round  about  brought  quails  for  his  master’s  sus- 
tenance; and  in  the  season  of  rabbits,  a rabbit.  And  between 
the  servant  of  God  and  this  cat  there  was  much  love. 

“ To  Father  Tembleque  there  came  one  day  a stranger, 
who  courteously,  yet  with  a curious  particularity,  questioned 
him  about  the  progress  of  the  great  work  that  he  had  in  hand. 
For  certain  persons  of  the  baser  sort  had  said  in  the  ears  of 
the  Viceroy  that  Father  Tembleque  was  wasting  his  time  and 
the  substance  of  the  church  in  striving  to  do  an  impossible 
thing;  and  this  stranger  really  was  an  alcalde  of  the  court, 
whom,  that  he  might  know  the  truth,  the  Viceroy  had  sent 
thus  secretly  to  ask  searching  questions  and  to  see  for  himself 
how  the  work  went  on.  And  as  the  two  communed  together, 
behold  the  cat  came  out  of  the  wood  to  where  they  stood  in 
talk  and  laid  a rabbit  at  his  master’s  feet! 

“When  said  the  servant  of  God:  ‘ Brother  Cat,  a guest 

hath  come  to  us,  and  therefore  it  is  necessary  that  thou  shalt 
bring  me  this  day  not  one  rabbit,  but  two.’ 

“ Hearing  these  words,  the  cat  in  due  obedience,  betook 
himself  once  more  to  the  thicket.  But  the  alcalde,  thinking 
that  this  might  be  a trick  that  was  put  upon  him,  sent  after 

155 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  cat  to  spy  upon  him  one  of  his  own  servants.  And  the 
servant  presently  beheld  a greater  wonder.  For  in  a mo- 
ment the  cat  met  with  another  rabbitd*^  which  he  caught  with- 
out any  resistance  at  all  on  the  creature’s  part,  and  with  it 
returned  to  his  master  again:  thus  plainly  showing  that  all 
had  been  disposed  thus  by  God. 

“ And  the  Senor  Alcalde,  being  so  substantially  assured  of 
the  miracle,  returned  to  the  Viceroy  and  said,  ‘ Though  it 
seems  to  be  impossible  to  bring  the  water  by  the  way  that  Fa- 
ther Tembleque  hath  chosen,  and  though  the  work  that  he  hath 
set  himself  to  do  seems  to  be  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  ac- 
complish, yet  assuredly  will  he  succeed;  for  I have  seen  that 
which  proves  beyond  a peradventure  that  God  hath  vouch- 
safed to  him  his  all-powerful  aid  and  he  told  to  the  Viceroy 
the  whole  of  the  miracle  which  through  the  cat  had  been 
wrought.  Therefore  did  the  Viceroy  encourage  Father  Tem- 
bleque in  his  great  work;  and  God’s  blessing  continuing  upon 
it,  in  seventeen  years’  time  tbe  aqueduct  was  finished  — the 
very  aqueduct  through  which  the  water  comes  to  the  towns  of 
Otumba  and  Zempoala  at  the  present  day.” 

Doubtless  many  miraculous  cat  stories  are  to  be  found  in 

Stories  of  cats  who  have  fed  families  are  not  uncommon.  There  is,  for 
instance,  that  of  the  ploughman  who  lived  at  the  foot  of  the  Orchils  and  his  cat, 
Mysie.  The  ploughman  had  long  been  ill  — his  home  was  in  poverty  — when 
the  doctor  said  the  poor  man  would  die  if  his  strength  was  not  kept  up  by 
stimulants  and  animal  food.  “ I put  awa’  my  marriage  gown  and  ring  to  get 
him  wine,”  related  the  ploughman’s  wife,  “but  we  had  naething  in  the  house 
but  milk  and  meal.  Surely,  sir,  it  was  the  Lord  himself  that  put  it  into  that 
cat’s  head;  for  that  same  night  she  brought  in  a fine  young  rabbit,  and  laid  it 
on  tlie  verra  bed ; and  the  next  night  the  same,  and  every  night  the  same,  for  a 
month,  whiles  a rabbit  and  whiles  a bird,  till  George  was  up,  and  going  to  his 
work  as  usual.  But  she  never  brought  anything  after  that.”  Agnes  Repplier 
found  a similar  story  in  Watson’s  Annals,  which  she  quotes  on  page  237  of 
“ The  Fireside  Sphinx.” 

Found  by  Mr.  Janvier  in  MS.  of  Fray  Agustin  de  Vetancourt  in  the  Meno- 
logio  Franciscano,  October  1,  of  his  Teatro  Mexicano  (City  of  Mexico;  1698; 
folio) . 


156 


The  Cat  in  Folklore 

the  archives  of  Negro  folklore.  I remember  one  which  I 
have  heard  both  Kitty  Cheatham  and  Bert  Williams  tell.  An 
itinerant  Negro  preacher,  finding  himself  a long  distance  from 
the  next  farmhouse  at  an  inconveniently  late  hour,  decided  to 
accommodate  himself  for  the  night  in  a deserted  hut.  He 
lighted  a fire  in  the  fireplace  and  settled  down  before  it  to 
read  his  Bible  when  suddenly  a black  kitten  appeared.  He 
caressed  the  animal  and  was  indeed  glad  to  have  company 
for  he  began  to  recall  a legend  that  the  house  was  haunted. 
Presently  a larger  cat  joined  the  kitten  and  the  preacher  was 
astonished  to  hear  him  remark,  “ We  cain’t  do  nothin’  till 
Martin  gits  here.”  The  old  man,  however,  decided  that  his 
ears  must  have  deceived  him  and  continued  to  read  his  Bible 
aloud  fervidly.  Pretty  soon  along  came  a cat  the  size  of  a 
collie  dog,  who  settled  down  on  his  haunches  alongside  the 
others.  “ We  cain’t  do  nothin’  till  Martin  gits  here,”  he 
remarked  plaintively.  The  preacher’s  knees  shook  and  his 
kinky  hair  began  to  grow  straighter,  but  he  bent  over  tbe 
Holy  Word  and  began  to  intone  the  lines.  But  the  next  ar- 
rival was  a cat  as  big  as  a lion.  He  sat  down  with  the  others 
and  his  tone  was  an  angry  deep  growl  as  he  said,  “ We  cain’t 
do  nothin’  till  Martin  gits  here.”  This  was  too  much  for 
the  preacher  who  dropped  his  Bible  and  fled,  shouting  over 
bis  shoulder,  “ You  tell  Martin  when  he  gits  here  dat  I cain’t 
wait  for  him  ! ” 

In  Russia,  according  to  Thiselton  Dyer,  the  cat  enjoys  a 
better  reputation  among  the  people  than  she  does  in  some 
other  countries.  There  is  a curious  legend  current  about  Mos- 
cow that  when  Lucifer  once  tried  to  creep  back  into  Paradise, 
he  assumed  the  form  of  a mouse.  The  dog  and  the  cat  were 
on  guard  at  the  gates,  and  the  dog  allowed  the  evil  one  to 
pass,  but  the  cat  pounced  upon  him  and  so  defeated  another 
treacherous  attempt  against  human  felicity. 

At  any  rate  the  Russian  folk-tales  in  which  puss  plays 

157 


a 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

prominent  part  are  usually  based  on  accurate  observation  of 
the  animal’s  traits.  The  following  fable  of  Ivan  Krilof  cer- 
tainly epitomizes  the  spirit  of  the  cat; 

A certain  cook,  rather  more  educated  than  his  fellows, 
went  from  his  kitchen  one  day  to  a neighbouring  tavern,  leav- 
ing his  cat  at  home  to  protect  his  store  of  food  from  the  mice. 
But  on  his  return  he  found  the  floor  strewn  with  the  fragments 
of  a pie  and  Vaska  the  cat  crouching  in  a corner  behind  a 
vinegar  barrel,  purring  with  satisfaction,  and  busily  engaged 
in  disposing  of  a chicken. 

“Ah,  glutton,  ah,  evil-doer!”  exclaimed  the  reproachful 
cook.  “ Are  you  not  ashamed  to  be  seen  by  these  walls,  let 
alone  living  witnesses?  You,  an  honourable  cat  up  to  this 
time,  one  who  might  be  pointed  out  as  a model  of  discretion! 
And  now,  think  of  the  disgrace ! Now,  all  the  neighbours 
will  say,  ‘Vaska  is  a rogue;  Vaska  is  a thief.  Vaska  must 
be  kept  out  of  the  kitchen,  even  out  of  the  courtyard,  like  a 
ravenous  wolf  from  the  sheepfold.  He  is  corrupt;  he  is  a 
pest,  the  plague  of  the  neighbourhood.’  ” 

While  the  cook  was  delivering  this  discourse  Vaska  the  cat 
ate  the  whole  of  the  chicken. 


Chapter  Six:  The  Cat  and  the  Law 

From  the  epoch  of  the  cat’s  godhood  down  to  the  modern 
moment  laws  have  been  passed  to  protect  the  cat,  laws  which 
have  demanded  that  man  treat  the  cat  in  such  and  such  a 
fashion.  Egyptians  cat-killers  were  punished  by  death. 
Diodorus  writes  of  a brave  Roman  soldier  who  was  the  victim 
of  this  law.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  this  extreme  meas- 
ure with  the  old  English  common  law  which  held  both  cats 
and  dogs  as  “ no  property,  being  base  by  nature,”  but  it  is 
also  well  to  remember  that  at  one  time  in  England  larceny 
was  punished  by  the  death  penalty.  If  a cat  had  been  con- 
sidered property  the  theft  of  a puss  would  have  led  the  thief 
to  the  block  or  the  scaffold.  The  English  “ Rule  of  Nuns  ” 
issued  in  the  early  thirteenth  century,  forbade  the  holy  wmmen 
to  keep  any  beast  but  a cat.  A canon  of  a date  nearly  a hun- 
dred years  earlier  forbade  nuns,  even  abbesses,  from  wearing 
costlier  skins  than  those  of  lambs  and  cats.  The  Welsh  laws 
concerning  domestic  lions  were  formulated  in  the  tenth  cen- 
tury. In  i8i8  a decree  was  issued  at  Ypres  in  Flanders  for- 
bidding the  throwing  of  pussies  from  high  towers  in  com- 
memoration of  a Christmas  Spectacle.  And  today  the  So- 
ciety for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals  endeavours  to 
make  the  punishment  fit  the  crime  for  anyone  who  maliciously 
mistreats  a cat. 

But  through  the  ages  law-makers  have  wisely,  it  would  seem, 
allowed  puss  to  go  more  or  less  her  own  way,  while  restricting 
her  master’s  actions  in  regard  to  her.  I say  wisely,  for  it 
cannot  be  considered  the  part  of  wisdom  to  create  laws  which 
will  not  be  obeyed,  and  I think  I have  made  it  fairly  clear  that 
the  cat  will  not  obey  laws.  A cat  makes  no  attempt  to  gov- 

159 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

ern  other  cats  and  he  will  not  tolerate  such  an  attempt  on  the 
part  of  man.  While  other  animals  are  leashed  and  muzzled, 
barned  and  fenced  in,  puss  wanders  free.  The  unclean  dojr 
is  expelled  from  the  mosque  but  grimalkin  is  welcomed  there. 
She  rubs  her  legs  against  the  sultan’s  guests  at  dinner  and 
attends  state  banquets  at  the  White  House. ^ So  she  sits  at 
the  prelate’s  table  or  by  the  humble  farmer’s  hearth,  but  by 
night  she  wanders  the  heath  or  the  rooftop,  to  view,  as  one 
poet  has  ingeniously  explained,  the  surrounding  country! 

Even  in  the  middle  ages  when  it  was  quaintly  held  that 
animals  were  responsible  for  crimes”  (I  say  quaintly  because 
it  is  perfectly  obvious  that  both  the  word  and  the  idea  are 
human  inventions)  and  they  were  tried  and  condemned  to 
death  and  to  other  punishments,  including  torture,  the  cat  es- 
caped.^ In  the  list  of  these  trials  given  by  E.  P.  Evans 
there  is  not  one  single  case  in  which  a cat  was  the  defendant. 
The  cat  appears,  indeed,  only  in  the  testimony  of  these  trials. 
Once,  for  instance,  a sixteenth  century  French  jurist,  Bartho- 
lomew Chassenee,  complained  that  his  clients,  some  rats,  were 
prevented  from  appearing  in  court  at  Autun,  because  of  a 
stretch  of  cat  country  that  they  would  be  forced  to  cross  on 
their  journey.  Modern  lawyers  will  be  glad  to  know  that 
Chassenee  successfully  defended  his  rats.  By  virtue  of  the 
old  Germanic  law  cats  often  appeared  as  witnesses  at  the  trials 
of  thieves  and  murderers.® 

1 See  “Slippers,  the  White  House  Cat,”  by  Jacob  A.  Riis:  “Saint  Nicholas”; 
January  1908.  Theodore  Roosevelt  was  not  the  first  of  our  presidents  to  be  a 
cat-lover.  There  was  at  least  one  other,  Abraham  Lincoln. 

- The  middle  ages  cannot  be  held  entirely  responsible  for  these  laws.  It  was 
incorporated  into  the  Mosaic  Law  that  an  ox  who  killed  a man  was  subject  to 
death,  just  as  if  it  had  been  a man  who  had  murdered  one  of  his  fellows.  See 
Exodus,  XXI,  28:  “ If  an  ox  gore  a man  or  a woman,  that  they  die;  then  the  ox 

shall  be  surely  stoned,  and  his  flesh  shall  not  be  eaten;  but  the  owner  of  the  ox 
shall  be  quit.” 

3 As  a witch’s  companion  she  did  not  escape,  but  I have  fully  covered  that 
point  in  a preceding  chapter. 

“ The  Criminal  Prosecution  and  Capital  Punishment  of  Animals.” 

5 Same  work,  p.  11. 


160 


The  Cat  and  the  Law 

In  passing  it  is  interesting  to  observe  that  St.  Ives,  the 
patron  saint  of  lawyers  is  represented  as  accompanied  by  a 
cat.  And  here  again,  if  it  were  necessary,  we  might  invoke 
symbolism  to  explain  the  simple  truth  that  holy  men  as  well 
as  devils  found  the  cat  the  most  attractive  of  animals.  The 
profound  wisdom,  the  concealed  claws,  the  stealthy  approach, 
and  the  final  spring,  all  seem  to  typify  the  superior  attorney. 
We  should  not  be  astonished,  therefore,  that  Cardinal  Wolsey 
placed  his  cat  by  his  side  while  acting  in  his  judicial  capacity 
as  Lord  Chancellor. 

The  most  interesting  laws  concerning  cats  were  formulated 
during  the  tenth  century  by  Howel  Dda,  a King  of  South 
Wales,  who,  perceiving  that  the  customs  of  his  country  were 
being  violated,  called  the  archbishops,  the  bishops,  the  nobles, 
and  other  chosen  men  to  meet  at  Y ty  Gwyn  ar  Dav  with 
him.  The  whole  of  Lent  was  spent  by  this  body  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  King  in  fasting  and  prayer;  then  Howel  selected 
from  the  assembly  twelve  of  the  wisest  men  and  adding  to 
their  number  a doctor  of  laws,  Blegywryd  by  name,  com- 
mitted them  to  the  task  of  examining,  retaining,  expounding, 
and  abrogating  the  laws.  When  the  work  was  completed 
Howel  sanctioned  it.  Wales,  however,  was  of  considerable 
size  and  it  was  not  long  before  local  distinctions  arose  which 
resulted  in  the  eventual  formulation  of  three  separate  Codes, 
Venedotian,  Dimetian,  and  Gwentian.  It  is  from  these 
Codes  that  the  following  curious  passages  relating  to  cats  have 
been  extracted. 

According  to  the  Venedotian  Code:  The  worth  of  a kit- 

ten from  the  night  it  is  kittened  until  it  shall  open  its  eyes  is  a 
legal  penny;  and  from  that  time  until  it  shall  kill  mice,  two 
legal  pence;  and  after  it  shall  kill  mice,  four  legal  pence;  and 
so  it  shall  always  remain.  The  penny,  at  this  period,  was 
equal  to  the  value  of  a lamb,  a kid,  a goose,  or  a hen;  a cock 
or  a gander  was  worth  twopence,  a sheep  or  a goat  fourpence. 
The  qualities  of  a cat,  continues  the  Code,  are  to  see,  to  hear, 

i6l 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

to  kill  mice,  to  have  her  claws  entire,  to  rear  and  not  to  de- 
vour her  kittens,  and  if  she  be  bought  and  be  deficient  in 
any  of  these  qualities,  let  one  third  of  her  worth  be  returned. 

In  the  Dimetian  and  Gwentian  Codes  distinctions  are  drawn 
between  cats  and  cats.  The  Dimetian  Code  says:  The 

worth  of  a cat  that  is  killed  or  stolen:  its  head  is  to  be  put 
downwards  upon  a clean,  even  floor,  with  its  tail  lifted  up- 
wards, and  thus  suspended,  whilst  wheat  is  poured  about  it, 
until  the  tip  of  its  tail  be  covered  and  that  is  to  be  its  worth; 
lif  the  corn  cannot  be  had,  a milch  sheep  with  her  lamb  and 
its  wool  is  its  value,  if  it  be  a cat  which  guards  the  King’s 
barn.  The  worth  of  a common  cat  is  four  legal  pence. 

The  Gwentian  Code  says:  Whoever  shall  kill  a cat  that 

guards  a house  or  a barn  of  the  King  or  shall  take  it  stealth- 
ily; it  is  to  be  held  with  its  head  to  the  ground  and  its  tail 
up,  the  ground  being  swept  and  then  clean  wheat  is  to  be 
poured  about  it  until  the  tip  of  its  tail  be  hidden:  and  that 
is  its  worth.  Another  cat  is  four  legal  pence  in  value. 

There  seem  to  be  obvious  difficulties  involved  in  the  carry- 
ing out  of  this  law.  In  the  first  place  it  would  appear  to  be 
necessary  to  capture  both  the  thief  and  the  stolen  cat.  In  the 
second  place  no  self-respecting  cat  would  permit  herself  to  be 
suspended  by  the  tail.  She  would  scratch  and  bite  and  turn 
and  twist  and  curl  until  it  would  be  impossible  to  go  through 
with  the  experiment  unless  she  were  dead  and  certainly  the 
Welsh  judges  would  not  kill  the  King’s  cat  merely  in  order 
to  punish  her  thief.  Thirdly  it  would  seem  to  be  manifestly 
impossible  to  enforce  this  law  if  the  King’s  cat  happened  to 
be  a tailless  Manx  cat. 

There  are  further  laws:  The  Dimetian  Code  says : Who- 

ever shall  sell  a cat  is  to  answer  for  her  not  going  a cater- 
wauling every  moon;  and  that  she  devour  not  her  kittens;  and 
that  she  have  ears,  eyes,  teeth,  and  nails,  and  is  a good 
mouser.  The  Gwentian  Code  provides  that  there  shall  be  no 
Manx  cats:  The  qualities  of  a cat  are  that  it  be  perfect  of 

162 


The  Cat  and  the  Law 

ear,  perfect  of  eye,  perfect  of  teeth,  perfect  of  tall,  perfect 
of  claw,  and  without  marks  of  fire;  and  that  it  kill  mice  well 
and  that  it  shall  not  devour  its  kittens  and  that  it  be  not 
caterwauling  on  every  new  moon. 

The  importance  of  the  cat  to  the  community  was  recog- 
nized by  these  Welsh  laws  which  provided  that  one  cat  was 
necessary  to  make  a lawful  hamlet  together  with  nine 
buildings,  one  plough,  one  kiln,  one  churn,  one  bull,  one 
cock,  and  one  herdsman.  The  dog  and  the  horse  are  not 
mentioned. 

Another  interesting  detail  of  the  Dimetian  Code  relates 
to  the  separation  of  man  and  wife:  the  goods  and  chattels 
were  to  be  divided  but  the  husband  took  the  cat  if  there  was 
but  one;  if  there  were  others  they  went  to  the  wife.  The 
stress  laid  on  puss  at  this  period,  her  comparatively  high 
value,  leads  Pennant  ® to  the  very  credible  conclusion  that 
her  importation  must  have  been  recent,  as  the  animal  breeds 
so  rapidly  that  in  a few  years  a dozen  felines  could  populate 
a country. 

Notwithstanding  the  laws  of  Howel  the  question  as  to 
whether  or  not  the  cat  is  a property  continues  to  be  discussed 
in  its  legal  aspects  down  to  the  present  day.  There  seems  to 
be  difference  of  opinion  in  the  matter  and  the  judgments  in 
law  suits  of  this  character  seem  to  depend  on  whether  or  no 
the  judge  is  a cat-lover.  Fortunately  most  judges  are  cat- 
lovers. 

In  1865,  Monsieur  Richard,  the  juge  de  paix  of  Fontaine- 
bleau rendered  a memorable  decision.  An  inhabitant  of  the 
town,  annoyed  by  cats  who  molested  his  garden,  set  traps  and 
caught  fifteen.  The  owners  of  the  cats  brought  the  man  to 
trial. 

“ Considering,”  said  the  learned  judge  in  his  opinion,  “ that 

® “ British  Zoology.” 

^ This  phrase  and  such  words  as  “ master,”  “ mistress,”  etc.,  which  occur  in 
this  book  are  used  purely  for  convenience.  Of  course  no  one  ever  owned  a cat. 

163 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  law  does  not  permit  the  individual  to  do  justice  to  himself 
in  his  own  person; 

“ That  article  479  of  the  Penal  Code,  and  Article  1385 
of  the  Code  Napoleon,  recognize  several  kinds  of  cats,  not- 
ably the  wild  cat,  as  a noxious  animal  for  the  destruction  of 
which  a reward  Is  granted,  but  that  the  domestic  cat  is  not 
affected  by  these  articles  in  the  eyes  of  the  legislator; 

“ That  the  domestic  cat,  not  being  a thing  of  nought  {res 
niiUius),  but  the  property  of  a master,  ought  to  be  protected 
by  the  law; 

“ That  the  utility  of  the  cat  as  a destroyer  of  mischievous 
animals  of  the  rodent  kind  being  indisputable,  equity  demands 
the  extension  of  Indulgence  to  an  animal  which  is  tolerated 
by  the  law; 

“ That  even  the  domestic  cat  Is  In  some  degree  of  a mixed 
nature,  that  Is  to  say,  an  animal  always  partly  wild, 
and  which  must  remain  so  ijy  reason  of  its  destiny  and 
purpose.  If  it  is  to  render  those  services  which  are  expected 
from  it; 

“ That  although  the  law  of  1790,  art.  12  in  fine,  permits  the 
killing  of  poultry,  the  assimilation  of  cats  with  these  birds  is 
by  no  means  correct,  since  the  fowl  species  are  destined  to 
be  killed  sooner  or  later,  and  that  they  can  be  kept  In  a man- 
ner under  the  hand  of  their  owners,  sub  custodia,  In  a com- 
pletely enclosed  and  secure  place,  while  this  cannot  be  said 
of  the  cat,  for  It  Is  impossible  to  put  that  animal  under  lock 
and  key,  if  it  Is  to  obey  the  law  of  its  nature; 

“ That  the  asserted  right  in  certain  cases  of  killing  the 
dog,  which  is  a dangerous  animal  and  prompt  to  attack  with- 
out being  rabid,  cannot  be  held  to  imply  as  a consequence  the 
right  to  kill  a cat,  which  is  an  animal  not  calculated  to  in- 
spire fear,  and  always  ready  to  run  away; 

“ That  nothing  in  the  law  authorizes  citizens  to  set  traps, 
in  order,  by  an  appetizing  bait,  to  entice  the  Innocent  cats 
of  an  entire  quarter  as  well  as  the  guilty  ones; 

164 


The  Cat  and  the  Law 

“That  no  one  ought  to  do  to  the  property  {chose)o{  an- 
other that  which  he  would  not  wish  to  have  done  to  his  own 
property; 

“That  all  goods  being  either  movables  {meiihles)  or  im- 
movables {immeuhles)  according  to  article  516  of  the  Code 
Napoleon,  it  results  therefrom  that  the  cat,  contrary  to  ar- 
ticle 128  of  the  same  Code,  is  incontestably  a movable 
(meuhle)  protected  by  the  law,  and  therefore  that  the  own- 
ers of  animals  which  are  destroyed  are  entitled  to  claim  the 
application  of  article  479,  clause  i,  of  the  Penal  Code,  which 
punishes  those  who  have  voluntarily  caused  damage  to  the 
movable  property  of  others.”  ® 

A similar  decision  was  rendered  in  the  sheriff’s  court  at 
Perth,  Scotland,  in  the  late  seventies.  The  cat  had  killed  the 
plaintiff’s  pigeon  on  a neighbour’s  premises.  The  learned 
sheriff  in  his  decision  said: 

“ It  was  quite  legitimate  for  the  plaintiff  to  keep  a pigeon, 
but  just  as  much  so  for  the  defendant  to  keep  a cat.  The 
latter  is  more  a domestic  animal  than  a pigeon.  But  there 
are  no  obligations  on  the  owner  of  a cat  to  restrain  it  to 
the  house.  The  plaintiff’s  plea  is  that  the  natural  instinct  of 
the  feline  race  is  to  prey  on  birds  as  well  as  mice.  So  it  was 
argued  that  the  owner  of  the  cat  should  prevent  the  pos- 
sibility of  its  coming  into  contact  with  its  favourite  sport. 
But  it  is  equally  true  that  the  owner  of  a bird  should  ex- 
ercise similar  precaution  to  prevent  its  coming  within  the 
range  of  a hostile  race.  If  the  defendant’s  cat  had  tres- 
passed into  the  plaintiff’s  house  or  aviary  where  the  bird  was 
secured,  there  might  be  ground  for  finding  the  owner  of  the 
cat  liable  for  the  consequences  of  its  being  at  large.  With 
parity  of  reason  had  the  bird  intruded  itself  upon  the  ter- 
ritory of  the  cat  and  there  had  been  slain,  there  could  have 
been  no  recourse  because  the  owner  of  the  bird  should  have 
prevented  its  escape.  In  the  present  case  it  appears  that  both 

® This  decision  was  afterwards  disputed  before  the  Correctional  Tribunal. 

165 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  quadruped  and  the  winged  animal  were  in  trespass  on  neu- 
tral territory.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  plaintiff  to  take  the  guar- 
dianship of  the  bird  said  to  be  so  valuable  and  therefore  both 
owners  are  equally  to  blame  and  the  case  must  be  viewed 
as  arising  from  natural  law,  for  which  neither  owner  without 
cidpa  can  be  answerable.  The  defendant  being  at  first  not 
sympathetic  with  the  loss  of  the  plaintiff,  but  rather  put  him 
at  defiance,  and  forced  him  to  prove  it  was  the  defendant’s 
cat  who  slew  his  bird,  the  defendant  will  be  acquitted  but 
without  costs.”  ® 

In  Maine  it  has  been  decided  that  the  cat  is  a domestic 
animal  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  statute  which  provides 
that  “ any  person  may  lawfully  kill  a dog  which  ...  is  found 
worrying,  wounding,  or  killing  any  domestic  animal,  when 
said  dog  is  outside  of  the  inclosure  or  immediate  care  of 
its  owner  and  keeper.”  The  plaintiff  sued  the  defendant,  al- 
leging that  he  had  killed  a valuable  foxhound  belonging  to 
him,  and  the  defendant  replied  that  he  had  killed  it  because 
the  dog  was  chasing  and  worrying  his  cat.  The  court  held 
that  this  was  sufficient  justification  and  gave  an  exhaustive 
view  of  the  law  as  to  felines.^®  Ingham  cites  a Canadian  case 
in  which  the  judge  decided:  “A  person  may  have  property 

in  a cat  and  therefore  an  action  will  lie  to  recover  damages  for 
killing  it.  There  may  be  circumstances  under  which  it  would 
be  justifiable  to  kill  a cat;  but  it  is  not  justifiable  to  do 

“Harrison  Weir  (“Our  Cats  and  All  About  Them,”  p.  207)  quotes  an  “Arti- 
cled Clerk”  writing  in  “The  Standard”  with  regard  to  the  illegality  of  killing 
cats:  “It  is  clearly  laid  down  in  ‘Addison  on  Torts,’  that  a person  is  not  justi- 

fied in  killing  his  neighbour’s  cat,  which  he  finds  on  his  land,  unless  the  animal 
is  in  the  act  of  doing  some  injurious  act  which  can  only  be  prevented  by  its 
slaughter.  And  it  has  been  decided  by  the  case  of  ‘ Townsend  v.  Watken,’  9 
last  277,  that  if  a person  sets  on  his  lands  a trap  for  foxes,  and  baits  it  with 
such  strong-smelling  meat  as  to  attract  his  neighbour’s  cat  on  to  his  land,  to  the 
trap,  and  such  animal  is  thereby  killed  or  injured,  he  is  liable  for  the  act, 
though  he  had  no  intention  of  doing  it,  and  though  the  animal  ought  not  to 
have  been  on  his  land.” 

i““The  cat  a ‘domestic  animal’  and  ‘property’”:  “The  American  Law  Re- 
view”; Vol.  49,  p.  917. 

166 


The  Cat  and  the  Law 

so  merely  because  it  Is  a trespasser,  even  though  after 
game.” 

In  another  case  the  owner  of  a cat  was  not  held  liable  to  the 
owner  of  a canary  bird  killed  by  it,  the  court  considering  that 
cats  to  some  extent  “ may  be  regarded  as  still  undomesticated 
and  their  predatory  habits  are  but  a remnant  of  their  wild 
nature.” 

But  an  Attorney-General  of  the  State  of  Maryland,  evi- 
dently no  fellnophile,  handed  down  a decision  which  was  a 
cruel  blow  to  the  owners  of  cats.  A certain  citizen  of  Bal- 
timore (I  hope  this  was  not  Mencken)  stole  a fine  maltese 
cat  from  a neighbour,  who  had  him  arrested  for  theft.  When 
the  case  came  up  for  trial  the  prisoner’s  counsel  entered  the 
plea  that  It  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  steal  a cat,  as  that 
animal  is  not  property,  and  that  to  take  forcible  possession 
of  a feline,  even  though  It  be  a pet  and  wear  a ribbon  and 
answer  to  its  name,  is  not  a legal  offense. The  astonishing 
judge  held  the  argument  to  be  good  and  the  more  astonishing 
Attorney-General,  to  whom  the  case  was  appealed,  agreed 
with  him.  The  latter  in  his  formal  opinion,  declared  that 
the  cat  Is  really  nothing  but  a wild  animal,  that  It  Is  of  no 
use  to  man,  and  that  the  taking  of  a cat  without  the  owner’s 
consent  is  not  an  indictable  offence.  Since  this  extraordinary 
decision  was  rendered  cat-owners  with  pussy-baskets  have 
been  seen  leaving  Baltimore  on  every  train.  Cats  themselves, 
however,  have  as  yet  entered  no  objection  to  the  decree, 
arguing  doubtless  that  it  stands  to  reason  If  a man  steals  you 
he  wants  you  pretty  badly  and  is  therefore  likely  to  give  you 
more  liver,  fish,  and  other  delectables  than  the  man  with  whom 
you  were  living  before. 

In  Georgia  it  Is  held  to  be  libellous  to  say  that  a young 
lady  said  that  her  mama  acted  like  a cat.  Edgar  Saltus  has 

John  H.  Ingham:  “The  Law  of  Animals.” 

Gertrude  B.  Rolfe:  “The  Cat  in  Law”;  “North  American  Review”;  Vol. 
i6o,  p.  251. 


167 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

written  variations  on  a similar  theme  in  his  story,  “ The  7'op 
of  the  Heap.” 

It  is  not  an  uncommon  occurrence  for  cats  to  be  left  prop- 
erty by  will.  I shall  presently  discuss  the  case  of  Mad- 
emoiselle Dupuy.  Lord  Chesterfield  left  life  pensions  to  his 
cats  and  their  offspring.  This  sounds  eternal.  Others  have 
done  this.  In  fact  every  few  months  you  may  read  of  such 
a will  In  the  public  prints.  It  is  the  custom  of  relatives  in 
such  cases  to  attempt  to  break  the  wills,  and  in  most  instances 
they  have  been  successful.  But  there  is  at  least  one  case  in 
which  a notable  cat  charity  has  been  preserved  through  sev- 
eral centuries.  About  658  of  the  Hegira  (A.D.  1280)  the 
Sultan,  El-Daher-Beybars,  having  a particular  affection  for 
cats,  at  his  death  bequeathed  a garden  known  as  Gheyt-el- 
Qouttah  (the  cat’s  orchard),  situated  near  his  mosque  out- 
side Cairo,  for  the  support  of  needy  cats.  This  garden  has 
been  sold  and  resold,  but  until  at  least  a comparatively  recent 
date  and  probably  up  to  the  present  moment,  the  owner  still 
continues  to  carry  out  the  terms  of  the  will.  At  the  hour 
of  afternoon  prayer  a daily  distribution  of  refuse  from  the 
butchers’  stalls  is  made  to  the  cats  of  the  neighbourhood. 
“ At  the  usual  hour,  all  the  terraces  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Mehkemeh  (outer  court)  are  crowded  with  cats;  they  come 
jumping  from  house  to  house  across  the  narrow  streets  of 
Cairo,  in  haste  to  secure  their  share;  they  slide  down  the 
walls,  and  glide  Into  the  court,  where,  with  astonishing 
tenacity  and  much  growling,  they  dispute  the  scanty  morsels 
of  a meal  sadly  out  of  proportion  to  the  number  of  guests. 
The  old  hands  clear  the  food  off  in  a moment;  the  youngsters 
and  the  new-comers,  too  timid  to  fight  for  their  chance,  are 
reduced  to  the  humble  expedient  of  licking  the  ground.” 

There  are  other  ways  in  which  cats  figure  in  the  law. 
Marine  insurance  does  not  cover  damage  done  to  cargo  by 
the  depredations  of  rats,  but  if  the  owner  of  the  damaged 

IB  “Purple  and  Fine  Women.”  M.  Prisse  d’Avennes. 

168 


The  Cat  and  the  Law 

goods  can  prove  that  the  ship  was  sent  to  sea  without  a cat  he 
can  recover  damages  from  the  shipmaster.  Again,  according 
to  English  law,  a ship  found  at  sea  with  no  living  creature  on 
hoard  is  considered  a derelict  and  is  forfeited  to  the  Admi- 
ralty, the  finders,  or  the  King,  but  it  has  often  happened  that, 
from  its  hatred  of  facing  the  waves,  a cat  remaining  on  board 
has  saved  the  vessel  from  being  condemned. 

Periodically  letters  and  editorials  appear  In  the  American 
newspapers  concerning  the  advisability  of  licensing  cats  or  in 
some  way  depriving  them  of  their  power  of  Increasing,  or 
restraining  their  actions.  In  the  bird  journals  hysterical  gen- 
tlemen moan  loudly  over  the  destruction  of  feathered  song- 
sters and  demand  that  strong  measures  be  taken  as  preventa- 
tlves.  I am  not  at  all  sure  that  laws  have  not  been  passed 
In  certain  states  limiting  the  freedom  of  puss. 

Nevertheless  the  cat  preserves  his  liberty.  As  the  learned 
judge  of  Fontainebleau  remarked,  you  cannot  restrain  a cat 
without  changing  his  nature;  he  might  have  added  that  you 
cannot  change  his  nature.  A cat  will  preserve  his  independ- 
ence at  any  cost,  even  that  of  his  life.  Recently  an  adven- 
turous tom  climbed  the  switchboard  of  the  lighting  works  of 
Cardiff,  became  entangled  In  the  wires,  and  plunged  the  city 
In  darkness.  The  effort  cost  him  his  life  but  he  accom- 
plished his  purpose.  Therefore  senators  and  representatives, 
who  find  no  difficulty  In  fettering  human-kind  in  a hundred 
ways,  go  very  slowly  in  formulating  laws  regarding  the  cat. 
They  know  perfectly  well  that  the  cat  will  refuse  to  obey 
these  laws.  It  Is  amusing  and  delightful  to  observe  this  little 
animal  escaping  the  onerous  obligations  of  these  United 
States,  where  a dog  can  only  walk  abroad  on  a chain  with  his 
jaw  bandaged  and  a man  is  not  permitted  to  raise  a cup  to 
his  lips  unless  It  contain  lemonade  or  water,  or  to  set  pen  to 
paper  unless  he  scratches  hieroglyphics  that  can  be  read  with- 
out a blush  by  nasty-minded  old  gentlemen  on  the  lookout  for 
obscenity. 


169 


Chapter  Seven:  T’he  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

Actors,  playwrights,  singers  in  opera,  managers  of  theatres, 
and  stage-hands  have  as  many  superstitions  as  Italian  peas- 
ants. I have  known  of  a tenor  who,  because  of  the  presence 
of  a rival  tenor  in  a stage  box,  would  not  go  before  the  foot- 
lights in  his  great  role  of  Tannhauser  until  he  had  performed 
a ludicrous  and  scatologic  rite.  An  admirer  once  sent  a hand- 
some and  expensive  peacock-feather  fan  to  Madame  Mod- 
jeska.  Now  birds  in  general  and  peacock-feathers  in  par- 
ticular are  considered  more  portentous  omens  in  the  theatre 
than  the  simultaneous  breaking  of  a mirror,  sitting  at  table 
with  thirteen,  and  facing  the  evil  eye  in  any  other  plane  of 
worldly  existence.  The  gift  arrived  just  prior  to  a perform- 
ance of  Macbeth  and  the  Polish  actress  refused  to  allow  the 
curtain  to  ascend  until  the  noble  count,  her  husband,  had  with 
his  own  hands  consigned  the  offending  object  to  the  flames  of 
the  theatre  furnace.  These  are  bad  luck  signs.  Curiously,  and 
perversely  enough,  the  cat,  who  elsewhere  often  signifies  the 
most  dread  disaster,  is  a harbinger  of  prosperity  in  the  theatre. 
A black  cat  is  preferred;  indeed,  the  mere  presence  of  a black 
cat  is  sufficient  to  insure  the  success  of  any  playhouse  or 
any  play.  However  a cat  of  another  colour  will  do.  This 
superstition  is  so  wide-spread  that  every  theatre  from  the 
Comedie  Francaise  to  the  People’s  Theatre  on  the  New  York 
Bowery  entertains  a cat,  feeding  her  lavishly,  and  treating  her 
with  a respect  and  consideration  which  she  seldom  receives 
elsewhere  save  in  the  homes  of  cat-lovers.  I myself  have 
known  a stage  carpenter  in  the  Apollo  Theatre  at  Atlantic 
City  to  go  to  the  butcher  and  spend  his  own  money  for  fresh 

170 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

liver  with  which  he  returned  to  feed  the  cat  before  he  went 
off  to  his  own  dinner.  The  Cecile  Sorels,  the  Maggie  Clines, 
the  Kay  Laurels,  who  pass  the  portals  of  the  stage-door,  re- 
gard themselves  as  fortunate  If  the  cat  so  much  as  looks  at 
them  when  they  come  in.  If  the  pampered  feline  goes  so 
far  as  to  condescend  a caress,  rubbing  herself  against  an  actor’s 
leg,  that  actor  may  be  practically  certain  that  David  Belasco 
will  send  for  him  in  the  morning  to  sign  a life-contract.  Thus 
a kitten  which  playfully  attached  Itself  to  the  trailing  skirt  of 
Florence  Reed’s  dress  during  a rehearsal  of  Seven  Days  is 
said  to  have  been  responsible  for  the  subsequent  success  of 
that  happy  farce  and  the  call-boy  himself  could  have  told  you 
that  Florence  Reed  would  later  become  a star.  After 
J.  H.  Mapleson  had  secured  the  lease  of  Her  Majesty’s 
Theatre  in  London,  he  passed  through  the  door  of  the  Opera 
with  but  £2  in  his  pocket,  his  sole  balance,  but,  he  tells  us  In 
his  “ Memoirs,”  he  was  assured  that  there  was  no  occasion 
for  despair  when  the  “ celebrated  black  cat  of  the  theatre  ” 
rubbed  herself  in  the  most  friendly  way  against  his  knees. 
It  was  the  custom  of  Augustin  Daly,  after  his  work  was  done, 
to  wait  near  the  gallery  entrance  of  his  theatre  on  Thirtieth 
Street  for  a Broadway  car.  One  night  in  a snow-storm  a 
poor  kitten  begged  his  attention  with  a wavering  mew.  He 
picked  her  up  and  carried  her  back  to  the  theatre,  where  she 
grew  into  cathood.  At  the  first  New  York  performance  of 
Henry  Irving  In  Faust  the  theatre  cat  wandered  out  on  the 
open  stage  during  the  first  scene;  undisturbed  by  the  thunder 
and  lightning,  from  the  vantage  point  of  a canvas  rock,  she 
regarded  the  action  with  dignity  and  decorum.  Irving  after- 
wards remarked  that  he  had  regarded  the  incident  as  a lucky 
omen. 

Naturally  the  presence  of  cats  in  theatres  Is  frequently  re- 
sponsible for  accidents.  Puss,  who  Is  at  home  where  she  Is 
at  home,  has  a habit  of  strolling  abstractedly  across  the  stage 
at  embarrassing  moments.  Sometimes  she  will  sit  through 

171 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

a scene,  staring  critically  at  the  actors,  to  the  vast  diversion 
of  the  customers,  for  the  presence  of  a cat  on  the  stage,  de- 
spite the  contradictory  evidence  of  the  Irving  episode,  will 
usually  excite  mirth  in  an  audience,  no  matter  what  may  be 
the  predominant  mood  of  the  play.  It  has  therefore  become 
a general  custom  to  appoint  a deputy  whose  duty  It  is  to  lock 
puss  up  before  the  play  begins.  But  this  is  not  always  practi- 
cable; sometimes,  too,  the  squire  may  forget  to  carry  out  his 
instructions.  There  are  certain  theatre  cats  who  make  it  a 
matter  of  honour  never  to  cross  the  stage  In  front  of  the 
back  drop  when  the  curtain  Is  up  and  who  even  teach  their 
kittens,  with  sundry  cuffs  and  explanatory  mews,  to  observe 
this  rule.  Nevertheless  unexpected  and  unwelcome  appear- 
ances of  cats  on  the  scene  are  not  infrequent.  Charles  Sant- 
ley,  in  “ Student  and  Singer,”  tells  how  a cat  almost  caused 
the  failure  of  The  Flying  Dutchman  at  its  first  performance 
In  London.  Santley,  as  Vanderdecken,  had  just  finished  his 
opening  scene  and  had  leaned  back  against  a rock  while  he 
waited  for  Daland  to  make  his  entrance,  when  he  heard  some 
one  behind  him  hiss,  “ Ts!  Ts!  ” Looking  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eye  he  made  out  that  a cat  was  stealthily  crossing  the 
stage.  Instead  of  letting  her  go  on  one  of  the  men  In  the 
boat  was  foolishly  attempting  to  send  her  back,  not  a very 
easy  thing  to  get  a cat  to  do  under  any  circumstances.  Being 
very  tame  and  knowing  all  the  people  In  the  theatre  she  stopped 
to  see  who  was  calling  her.  ” I was  In  dread,”  writes  Santley, 
“ for  I knew  that  if  the  public  saw  her  she  would  attract  all 
their  attention  and  the  rest  of  the  act  would  go  for  nothing. 
To  my  great  joy  the  cat  did  not  recognize  the  boatman,  so 
went  quietly  off.”  Rossini  told  Madame  MarchesI  that  the 
climax  of  the  terrible  fiasco  of  The  Barber  of  Seville  at  the 
initial  performance  was  the  unexpected  appearance  of  a cat 
on  the  stage  which  turned  the  already  booing  and  hissing  audi- 
ence Into  a howling  mob  of  mirth  and  necessitated  the  ring- 
ing down  of  the  curtain.  This  incident  reminds  me  that  rude 

172 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

spectators  sometimes  express  their  displeasure  by  means  of 
cat-calls.  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  cat-call  was  a small 
circular  whistle,  composed  of  two  plates  of  tin  with  a hole 
in  the  centre,  but  more  lately  the  small  boy  has  learned  to 
produce  the  hideous  screech  by  placing  two  fingers  in  his 
mouth  and  whistling.  The  boy  who  has  lost  two  front  teeth’ 
is  said  to  be  better  prepared  by  nature  for  making  this  noise. 
There  have  been  occasions  on  which  dead  cats  have  been 
hurled  at  actors.  Huckleberry  Finn  informs  us  that  sixty- 
four  dead  cats  were  carried  to  the  third  performance  of 
The  Royal  Nonesuch  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  never 
given. 

But  now  and  again  puss  has  unexpectedly  been  a factor  in 
the  success  of  a play.  Just  before  the  curtain  fell  on  the 
first  act  of  a comedy  at  Wallack’s  Theatre  in  New  York  the 
theatre  cat  walked  slowly  across  the  stage,  set  as  a drawing- 
room, seated  himself  before  the  fireplace,  and  proceeded  to 
wash  himself.  This  realistic  touch  was  very  delightful  and 
if  David  Belasco  was  in  front  he  doubtless  writhed  in  agonized 
envy  that  he  had  not  introduced  it  into  some  play  of  his  own. 
When  the  leading  man  and  the  leading  woman  appeared  be- 
fore the  curtain  there  were  calls  for  the  cat,  and  the  biggest 
round  of  applause  greeted  Tom  when  he  came  out  in  the 
actress’s  arms.  The  producer  decided  on  the  spot  that  the 
cat  should  become  a permanent  actor,  but  when  he  was  called 
to  rehearsal  the  next  morning  the  results  were  not  very  satis- 
factory, He  refused,  indeed,  to  be  made  a party  to  any 
such  nonsense.  It  was  the  property-boy  who  hit  on  the  solu- 
tion: “ No  cat  ain’t  damn  fool  enough  to  let  itself  be  trained 
to  do  extra  work.  Lookin’  after  rats  and  mice  is  Peter’s 
job  and  we  got  to  make  him  do  the  stunt  along  that  line.” 
Accordingly  the  boy  held  a live  mouse  by  a cord  tantalizingly 
near  a hole  in  the  fireplace  and  puss  waited  breathlessly  each 
night  until  the  end  of  the  act  when  the  mouse  was  released. 
On  one  occasion  the  mouse  made  an  earlier  escape  and  the 

173 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

curtain  came  down  with  the  leading  woman  screaming  from 
a chair.  The  account  of  a similar  incident  I owe  to  Chan- 
ning  Pollock:  “ On  the  first  night  of  The  Little  Gray  Lady  in 

New  York  I sat  in  the  gallery  and  watched  my  play  slowly  fail. 
Not  a single  laugh  during  the  whole  first  act!  I have  never 
seen  a piece  go  so  badly;  It  was  flat,  dead,  and  I prepared  for 
the  funeral.  The  scene  of  the  second  act  was  a backyard, 
with  a fence,  an  alley,  and  an  ashcan.  At  a certain  point  in 
the  action,  chosen  It  would  seem  with  meticulous  precision, 
the  theatre  cat  bounded  over  the  top  of  the  fence,  jumped 
down  Into  the  ashcan  and,  finding  it  empty,  jumped  out  again 
and  walked  down  the  alley  off  the  stage.  The  house  howled 
and  roared  with  laughter  and  broke  into  applause;  the  audi- 
ence, indeed,  had  now  been  warmed  Into  an  appreciative  mood 
and  thereafter  followed  the  progress  of  the  play  with  en- 
thusiasm. In  the  following  performances,  by  the  clever  ruse 
of  laying  a trail  of  chopped  meat  along  the  proper  route  and 
releasing  the  cat  at  the  proper  moment,  we  were  enabled  to 
repeat  this  happy  accident.” 

This  kind  of  acting  a cat  Is  not  unwilling  to  perform,  but 
he  has  been  called  upon  to  do  much  more  on  the  stage.  Now 
at  home  he  Is  a natural  actor.  The  play  of  the  kitten,  the 
diversions  of  the  grownup  puss  are  invariably  partly  directed 
to  a human  audience.  Indeed  a feline  who  lives  on  amicable 
terms  with  men  and  women  sleeps  most  of  the  time  his  friends 
are  away.  Canon  Liddon’s  famous  cat  loved  to  distract  his 
distinguished  prelate  friend.  He  would  jump  upon  a bust  of 
Dr.  Busby  which  stood  on  a bracket  near  the  door,  and 
balancing  himself  “ for  one  instant  upon  that  severe  and  rev- 
erent brow,  would  take  a flying  leap  to  the  mantelpiece  and 
returning,  would  land  with  exquisite  and  unvarying  accuracy 
on  the  bust,  repeating  this  performance  as  often  as  his  master 
desired.  Liddon’s  great  amusement  was  to  stand  with  his 
back  to  the  bracket,  and  fling  a biscuit  at  Dr.  Busby’s  head, 
the  cat  catching  it  dexterously,  and  without  losing  his  pre- 

174 


THE  CAT  AND  THE  BALL  OF  THREAD 

From  a drazoing  by  Stcinlen  in  Des  Chats 


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The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

carious  foothold.”  ^ Wordsworth,  in  his  description  of  a 
kitten  at  play,  quite  mistakes  the  nature  of  the  artful  little 
ball  of  fur  when  he  asks: 

What  would  little  Tabby  care 
For  the  plaudits  of  the  crotudf 

For  what  else  would  she  care,  indeed?  But,  away  from 
home,  or  constrained,  the  cat  has  a natural  timidity,  a natural 
dignity,  and  a feeling  which  amounts  to  an  absolute  avers’on 
for  the  perfoiTnance  of  silly  antics  which  other  animals,  such 
as  seals  and  dogs,  seem  to  enjoy,  and  which  elephants  can  be 
taught  to  execute  with  facility  if  not  with  desire.  The  show- 
man’s task  becomes  a heavier  one  because  of  the  feline  char- 
acter. Animals  who  appear  in  the  theatre  or  the  circus  are 
usually  trained  by  being  beaten  or  threatened  with  red-hot 
irons.  In  other  words  it  is  through  their  sense  of  fear  that 
their  co-operation  is  gained.  But  such  tactics  will  be  of  no 
assistance  to  any  one  who  wishes  to  train  cats.  A terrified  cat 
will  shrink  and  tremble  but  he  will  not  jump  through  hoops. 
A cat  who  has  been  beaten  will  not  creep  up  to  lick  the 
mountebank’s  hand. 

Nevertheless  a man  who  has  won  a cat’s  confidence  can, 
with  patience  and  interminable  perseverance,  accomplish  a 
good  deal  in  this  direction.  The  easiest  method  is  to  prolong 
or  exaggerate  natural  characteristics.  If  a cat  has  a natural 
habit  of  sitting  on  h’s  haunches  and  waving  his  paws  in  the 
air,  it  is  a comparatively  easy  matter  to  teach  him  to  do  this 
upon  demand.  Feathers  will  lie  for  whole  minutes  perfectly 
still  on  her  back  in  the  palms  of  my  hands  with  one  paw,  per- 
haps, pasted  to  my  nose,  but  she  will  often  refuse  to  be  held 
in  any  ordinary  way.  It  is  very  simple,  of  course,  to  teach  a 
cat  to  live  at  peace  with  animals  which  usually  form  his  prey 
and  a collection  of  this  kind  in  a cage  impresses  a simple  public. 
Harrison  Weir  describes  one  such  family  whTh  a showman 

1 Agnes  Repplier:  “The  Fireside  Sphinx.” 

175 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

exhibited  in  which  starlings  sat  on  puss’s  head  and  blackbirds 
on  his  back  while  rabbits,  white  mice,  rats  and  other  such 
beasties  thrived  in  the  cage.  The  animals  seemed  contented 
and  happy.  At  another  London  street  corner  Mr.  Weir  met 
a man  who  had  trained  cats  and  birds:  “ The  man  takes  a 

canary,  opens  the  cat’s  mouth,  puts  it  in,  takes  it  out,  makes  the 
cat,  or  cats,  go  up  a short  ladder  and  down  another;  then 
they  are  told  to  fight,  and  placed  in  front  of  each  other;  but 
fight  they  will  not  with  their  forepaws,  so  the  master  moves 
their  paws  for  them,  each  looking  away  from  the  other.” 
Mr.  Weir  witnessed  other  performances  at  the  Royal  Aquar- 
ium, Westminster:  “On  each  side  of  the  stage  there  were 

cat  kennels,  from  which  the  cats  made  their  appearance  on  a 
given  signal,  ran  across,  on  or  over  whatever  was  placed 
between,  and  disappeared  quickly  Into  the  opposite  kennels. 
But  about  It  all  there  was  a decided  air  of  timidity,  and  an 
eagerness  to  get  the  performance  over.  When  the  cats  came 
out  they  were  caressed  and  encouraged,  which  seemed  to  have 
a soothing  effect,  and  I have  a strong  apprehension  that  they 
received  some  dainty  morsel  when  they  reached  their  destina- 
tion.” Other  feats  followed  and  the  entertainment  closed 
with  an  exhibition  of  tightrope  walking  in  which  the  cats 
walked  a rope  on  which  white  rats  had  been  placed  at  inter- 
vals, without  Injuring  the  rodents.  “ A repetition  of  this  feat 
was  rendered  a little  more  difficult  by  substituting  for  rats, 
which  sat  pretty  quietly  in  one  place,  several  white  mice  and 
small  birds,  which  were  more  restless,  and  kept  changing  their 
positions.  The  cats  re-crossed  the  rope,  and  passed  over  all 
these  obstacles  without  even  noticing  the  impediments  In  their 
way,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  when  they  stopped,  and 
cossetted  one  or  more  of  the  white  rats,  two  of  which  rode 
triumphantly  on  the  back  of  a large  black  cat.”  Miss  Wins- 
low " gives  some  account  of  Herr  Techow’s  performing  felines, 
who  walk  on  their  front  feet,  jump  through  hoops  of  fire, 

2 “ Concerning  Cats,”  p.  232. 


176 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

and  perform  other  unnatural  acts  to  the  great  edification  of 
vaudeville  audiences.  Herr  Techow  told  Miss  Winslow  that 
high-strung,  nervous  cats  have  the  best  minds  but  that  it  is 
difficult  to  keep  them  interested  in  their  work.  “ A vagrant 
cat,”  he  continued,  “ is  the  easiest  to  teach,  the  quickest  to 
learn.  Just  as  a street  gamin  gets  his  wits  sharpened  by  his 
vagrant  life,  the  stray,  half-starved  cat,  forced  to  defend  him- 
self from  foes  and  to  snatch  his  living  where  he  can,  has  his 
perceptive  faculties  quickened  and  his  brain-cells  enlarged.  I 
cannot  teach  a kitten.  I take  them  from  a year  to  two  or 
three  years  old,  and  train  them  three  years  longer  before  it 
is  safe  to  put  them  on  the  stage  with  confidence  in  their  per- 
forming the  tricks  they  may  have  mastered.” 

Performing  cats,  however,  are  seldom  to  be  seen  in  circuses 
or  vaudeville.  They  are  most  difficult  to  train,  not  because 
they  are  stupid  but  because  they  are  too  intelligent  to  be  in- 
terested in  such  nonsense.  A cat  is  never  vulgar  and  this 
sort  of  thing  undoubtedly  strikes  a cat  as  vulgar.  As  the 
cat  will  willingly  die  to  preserve  his  independence  he  cannot, 
even  when  he  has  seemingly  made  the  compromise  with  the 
showman,  be  depended  upon  to  carry  out  instructions.  Bear- 
ing on  this  point  Miss  Repplier  ^ tells  a particularly  signifi- 
cant story  of  a cat  she  saw  with  a troupe  of  performing  ani- 
mals at  the  Folies-Bergere  in  Paris: 

“ Her  fellow  actors,  poodles,  and  monkeys,  played  their 
parts  with  relish  and  a sense  of  fun.  The  cat,  a thing  apart, 
condescended  to  leap  twice  through  a hoop,  and  to  balance 
herself  very  prettily  on  a large  rubber  ball.  She  then  retired 
to  the  top  of  a ladder,  made  a deft  and  modest  toilet,  and 
composed  herself  for  slumber.  Twice  the  trainer  spoke  to 
her  persuasively,  but  she  paid  no  heed,  and  evinced  no  further 
interest  in  him,  nor  in  his  entertainment.  Her  time  for  con- 
descension was  past. 

“ The  next  day  I commented  on  the  cat’s  behaviour  to 
* “ The  Grocer’s  Cat  ” in  “ Americans  and  Others.” 

177 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

some  friends  who  had  also  been  to  the  Folies-Bergere  on  dif- 
ferent nights.  ‘ But,’  said  the  first  friend,  ‘ the  evening  I 
went,  that  cat  did  wonderful  things;  came  down  the  ladder 
on  her  ball,  played  the  fiddle,  and  stood  on  her  head.’ 

“ ‘ Really,’  said  the  second  friend.  ‘ Well  the  night  1 
went  she  did  nothing  at  all  except  cuff  one  of  the  monkeys 
that  annoyed  her.  She  just  sat  on  the  ladder  and  watched 
the  performance.  I presumed  she  was  there  by  way  of 
decoration.’  ” 

Cats  have  repeatedly  been  drawn  into  cinematograph 
representations  with  success,  however.  I remember  an  elabo- 
rate film  which  began  with  a cat  killing  a bird,  not  a very 
difficult  thing  to  get  a cat  to  do,  and  I have  seen  lovely  white 
Persians,  and  delightfully  amusing  alley  cats,  frisk  on  and  off 
the  screen  in  this  picture  and  that.  Adolf  Bolm  has  told  me 
of  an  electrical  drama  entirely  performed  by  a cat,  a bear, 
and  a fish. 

Occasionally  a playwright  has  asked  an  actress  to  carry  a 
cat,  as  dogs  are  often  carried,  on  the  stage.  Avery  Hop- 
wood  wanted  his  Countess  with  a cat  to  meet  his  Sadie  Love 
with  a dog.  But  an  attempt  or  two  at  rehearsals  decided 
him  that  the  project  had  best  be  abandoned.  The  theme  of 
Eugene  Walter’s  play.  The  Assassin,  was  inherited  blood-lust, 
and  the  audience  learned  that  the  girl-heroine  was  affected  with 
the  taint  when  she  killed  her  pet  kitten  at  the  end  of  the 
second  act.  The  murder  was  accomplished  off  stage  and  was 
indicated  by  the  screams  of  the  girl,  like  the  crucifixion  in 
Aphrodite,  but  in  order  to  establish  the  idea  of  the  kitten  in 
the  minds  of  the  audience  it  was  considered  necessary  to 
keep  her  on  the  stage  during  the  whole  act.  The  very 
youngest  of  kittens  was  secured  for  the  purpose  but  even  so 
it  was  no  easy  matter  to  hold  her  and  Fania  Marinoff,  to 

*It  is  perhaps  easier  for  a cat  to  train  a man  than  for  a man  to  train  a cat. 
A cat  who  desires  to  live  with  human  beings  makes  it  his  business  to  see  that  the 
so-called  superior  race  behaves  in  the  proper  manner  towards  him. 

178 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

whom  the  task  fell,  found  it  expedient  to  cut  puss’s  claws  be- 
fore many  rehearsals  had  taken  place.  The  kitten  was 
thoroughly  jolly,  good-natured,  and  happy  on  trains  and  in 
hotels,  even  in  the  dressing-room,  but  once  the  curtain  had 
risen  she  was  transformed  into  an  animated  fiend,  whose  one 
idea  was  escape.  She  struggled  and  often  yowled  and  hold- 
ing the  kitten  became  as  firmly  fixed  in  Miss  Marinoft’s  mind 
as  any  of  her  lines.  At  the  end  of  Lady  Gregory’s  play.  The 
Deliverer,^  the  King’s  Nurseling  is  thrown  to  the  King’s  cats: 

A loud  mewing  and  screaming  is  heard. 

Dan  s wife:  What  is  that  screeching? 

Malachi’s  wife:  It  is  the  King’s  cats  calling  for  their  food. 

Ard:  Shove  him  over  the  steps  to  them. 

Malachi:  Will  you  throw  him  to  the  King’s  cats? 

Dan’s  wife:  A good  thought.  No  one  will  recognize  him. 

They’ll  have  the  face  ate  off  him  ere  morning. 

Ard’s  wife:  Throw  him  to  the  King’s  cats! 

They  screech  again.  Their  shadow  is  seen  on  the  steps. 
The  King’s  Nurseling  is  dragged  into  darkness.  A louder 
screech  is  heard.^ 

Another  stage  cat  is  that  in  Chester  Bailey  Fernald’s  one-act 
play.  The  Cat  and  the  Cherub,  which  is  not  to  be  confused 
with  the  story  with  the  same  title.  One-Two  is  a delightful 
character  in  the  story,  but  in  the  play  the  cat  becomes  scarcely 
more  than  a name. 

There  are  occasions  on  which  playwrights  call  upon  actors 
to  impersonate  cats;  the  most  notable  example  of  this  sort 
of  drama  is  probably  The  Blue  Bird.  Maeterlinck,  of  course, 
is  exclusively  a dog-lover  and  the  Cat  does  not  come  off  very 

5 “ Irish  Folk-History  Plays,”  Second  Series. 

® There  is  an  historical  precedent  for  this  scene.  A certain  King  of  Persia, 
having  devastated  Egypt  and  profaned  the  temples,  committed  the  final  outrage 
in  killing  the  sacred  bull.  Apis.  The  Egyptians  were  revenged;  they  hacked 
his  body  to  pieces,  and  fed  the  morsels  to  the  sacred  cats! 

179 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

well;  nor  is  his  portrait  cleverly  drawn.  The  Cat  is  repre- 
sented as  fawning  on  his  human  friends  to  gain  his  own  ends, 
but  do  cats  ever  fawn?  None  that  I have  known  do.  On  the 
other  hand  Hinze  the  Tom  Cat  in  Ludwig  Tieck’s  Der  Gestie- 
felte  Kater  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  and  sympathetic  cats 
to  be  found  in  all  literature.  This  cat,  almost  white  with  a 
few  black  spots,  is  the  wisest  and  wittiest  personage  in  the  com- 
edy, which  purports  to  be  a dramatic  version  of  Puss  in  Boots. 
The  piece  is  a mad  fantastic  satire  on  the  German  people, 
the  German  government,  and  even  the  play  form  itself. 
In  Thomas  Middleton’s  The  Witch,  Hecate’s  cat  plays  a con- 
siderable part  in  the  incantation  scenes.  In  his  ballet.  The 
Sleeping  Beauty,  Tschaikovsky  introduces  a short  dance  be- 
tween two  cats  in  a scenic  episode  in  which  other  heroes  and 
heroines  of  the  Perrault  tales  appear.  Here,  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  spits  and  meows  in  the  orchestra.  Puss  in  Boots 
has  an  entirely  apocryphal  encounter  with  the  White  Cat.  The 
mood  of  this  divertissement  is  humorous  and  Adolf  Bolm 
has  told  me  that  it  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  scenes  in  the 
ballet  when  danced  at  Petrograd.  When  Anna  Pavlowa 
presented  a version  of  this  work  at  the  New  York  Hippodrome 
several  seasons  ago  I think  this  pas  de  deux  was  omitted. 
How  many  pantomimes  have  been  constructed  on  the  subject 
of  cats  I cannot  even  begin  to  conjecture.  J.  R.  Planche 
wrote  one,  I know,  on  the  theme  of  the  White  Cat,  and  Dick 
Whittington  and  Puss  in  Boots  must  have  been  figured  as 
frequently  in  the  London  Christmas  lists  as  any  other  folk  or 
fairy  story  heroes.”^ 

At  the  height  of  her  rivalry  with  Taglioni,  Fanny  Elssler 
danced  in  a ballet  called  La  Chatte  Metamorphosee  en  Femme, 

’’  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  Bernard  Shaw’s  extravagant  farce,  Passion, 
Poison,  and  Petrifaction,  was  suggested  by  a story  told  by  the  author  to  the 
children  of  William  Archer  about  a cat  who  by  mistake  lapped  up  a saucer  of 
plaster  of  Paris  instead  of  milk,  and  thereupon  became  petrified  and  was  used 
to  prop  up  a door! 


i8o 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

drawn  by  Coralli  and  Duveyrler  from  a vaudeville  of  the  same 
title  by  Scribe  and  Melesville;  the  music  was  composed  by  a 
young  winner  of  the  prix  de  Rome,  a forgotten  Apollo  named 
Montfort.  There  was  much  preliminary  booming  of  this 
ballet;  It  was  announced  that,  as  the  action  passed  In  China, 
the  costumes  would  be  copied  from  authentic  Canton  models 
and  the  following  paragraph  went  the  round  of  the  Paris 
journals:  “Until  recently,  It  Is  said,  Mile.  Fanny  Elssler 

had  an  unconquerable  aversion  for  cats.  Each  of  us  has  his 
bete  noire;  well,  the  hete  noire  of  Fanny  Elssler  was  a cat, 
even  a white  cat.  The  sight  of  a cat  made  her  tremble,  the 
mewing  of  a cat  made  her  dash  away  on  the  points  of  her  toes. 
But  the  love  of  art  is  like  all  love : it  knows  the  way  to  triumph 
over  fear;  it  knows  how  to  vanquish  the  most  sincere  re- 
pugnances; and  through  devotion  to  her  art,  to  give  truth  to  her 
Impersonation,  Mile.  Elssler  has  had  the  courage  to  buy  a 
little  white  cat,  which  is  always  with  her.  The  perfidious 
animal  Is  always  by  ber  side;  and  her  beautiful  enemy,  for- 
getting her  hate,  asks  inspiration  of  the  feline,  studies  her 
graceful  poses, ^ her  light  movements,  her  undulating  walk, 
and  even  her  defiant  glare  and  Immobile  stare;  sometimes  she 
still  trembles,  if  by  chance  her  hand  encounters  the  white 
ermine-like  fur;  the  woman  remembers  her  infantile  terrors, 
and  her  vanquished  repugnance  reawakens  for  a moment;  but 
the  artist  recalls  herself  to  her  role,  rids  herself  of  her  weak- 
ness, draws  the  pretty  cat  towards  her  and  bravely  caresses  it. 
The  repellent  animal  disappears  from  her  eyes;  she  sees  onlv 

® Rouviere,  the  actor,  writes  Champfleury,  was  truly  feline  by  nature,  and  was 
haunted  by  a desire  to  represent  his  sensations  by  the  brush.  He  fell  in  with 
Carlin,  the  harlequin  of  the  Italian  stage,  who  lived  surrounded  by  cats,  whose 
“ pupil  ” he  declared  himself  to  be.  A picture  by  Rouviere  explains  certain 
movements  of  that  actor,  who  was  remarkable  for  his  quick,  strange,  and  caress- 
ing gestures  in  Hamlet.  . . . Thus  might  be  explained  certain  exceptional  facul- 
ties of  Rouviere’s,  which,  even  after  his  death,  might  serve  an  instructive  pur- 
pose. Those  faculties  were  drawn  from  the  living  sources  of  nature,  for  it  may 
be  said  that  the  contemplation  of  a cat  is  as  valuable  to  an  actor  as  a course  at 
the  Conservatoire. 


i8i 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

her  model;  she  dreams  of  the  success  she  will  owe  to  it;  she 
hears  the  public  applaud  her  and  she  realizes  that  her  effort 
will  be  rewarded.” 

The  ballet  was  not  a great  success.  The  vaudeville  of 
Scribe  had  been  stupidly  adapted  and  the  music  was  uninterest- 
ing. But  Fanny’s  performance  was  considered  extraordinary. 
She  played  the  role  of  a young  Chinese  Princess,  in  love  with 
a student,  who  in  turn  adored  his  cat, 

L'eclat  d’une  langue  vermeille 
Sur  deux  levres  en  velours  noir. 

The  young  man  was  made  to  believe  that  by  means  of  a magic 
cap  he  could  change  his  beloved  puss  into  a woman.  He  con- 
sented to  the  metamorphosis  and  the  Princess  took  the  place 
of  the  animal.  She  adopted  the  habits  of  cats,^'’  exaggerated 
their  faults  in  order  to  make  the  young  man  an  ailurophobe. 
She  lapped  milk  from  a bowl,  made  war  on  birds,  played  him 
a thousand  tricks  until  the  student  was  ready  to  take  the 
Princess  and  let  the  cat  go.  All  this,  we  learn,  was  carried 
through  with  astonishing  effect  by  Fanny  Elssler,  who  had 
really  studied  the  manner  of  cats,  captured  their  subtle  walk, 
copied  their  gestures,  their  soft  paw-blows,  their  fashion  of 

9 This  priceless  example  of  1837  puffery,  so  like  the  efforts  of  many  present 
day  press  agents,  I take  from  Auguste  Ehrhard’s  charming  book,  “ Fanny 
Elssler.” 

19  In  the  “Century  Magazine”  for  April  1891,  Allan  McLane  Hamilton  pub- 
lished a story  called  “ Herr  von  Striempfell’s  Experiment,”  in  which  a scientist 
transplanted  the  brain  of  a cat  into  that  of  a beautiful,  sensible,  and  dignified 
woman  who,  after  her  convalescence  underwent  a remarkable  change,  acquiring 
feline  characteristics  of  a familiar  kind.  At  a formal  dinner  one  evening  she 
dived  from  her  chair  into  the  corner  and  caught  a mouse  between  her  teeth! 
Finally  she  died  slowly  and  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  bearing  out  the  nine 
lives  superstition.  In  his  “Recollections  of  an  Alienist”  (1916),  Dr.  Hamilton 
remarks  (p.  232)  : “Many  years  ago  I wrote  ...  a short  tale  . . . which  by 

some  people  was  taken  in  dead  earnest.  . . . Strange  to  say  this  led  to  serious 
experimentation  and  I have  heard  of  occasions  when  the  brain  grafting  was 
actually  tried  with  apparent  success,  but  let  us  hope  with  no  transfer  of  objec- 
tionable peculiarities.” 


182 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

stretching  themselves.  “ The  suppleness,”  said  a writer  in 
the  “ Courrier  des  Theatres,”  ” the  elegant  softness,  the 
velvet  agility,  the  spiritual  vivacity,  the  comic  expression, 
full  of  taste  and  charm,  employed  by  Mile.  Fanny  captivated 
the  spectators  until  they  believed  that  they  had  witnessed  a 
play,  whereas  they  had  only  seen  a ravishing  actress.” 

I have  already  spoken  of  Mademoiselle  Deshoulieres’s 
tragedy  to  be  enacted  by  her  mother’s  cat  and  her  lovers. 
Moncrif  has  inserted  in  his  book  a quaint  engraving  of  a 
fantastic  performance  of  this  piece.  Mirny,  Grisette,  Mar- 
muse,  and  Cafar  in  costumes  of  the  Louis  XIV  epoch  stalk 
the  rooftops  on  their  hind  legs,  while  common  cats,  clothed 
only  in  fur,  sedately  watch  the  performance  from  various 
points  of  vantage.  Cupid  with  his  bow  presides  over  this 
charming  scene. 

This  perhaps  was  the  last  play  written  entirely  for  cats 
until  Colette  Willy’s  Sept  Dialogues  de  Betes  appeared  in 
the  early  twentieth  century,  over  two  hundred  years  later. 
And,  of  course,  Madame  Willy’s  work  is  not  devoted  entirely 
to  cats!  No  one  has  written  about  animals  with  more 
sympathetic  understanding  than  Colette.  Pierre  Loti  is  a 
careful  and  sensitive  observer  but  he  writes  about  cats  objec- 
tively. Colette  treats  them  subjectively,  tries  to  put  herself 
under  their  skins,  makes  them,  indeed,  speak  for  themselves. 
This  method,  of  course,  has  obvious  difficulties,  the  main  one 

In  Ward  McAllister’s  “ Society  As  I Have  Found  It,”  in  the  description  of 
the  ball  given  in  honour  of  Lady  Mandeville’s  visit  to  New  York,  the  author 
writes  (p.  354)  : “The  most  remarkable  costume,  and  one  spoken  of  to  this  day, 
was  that  of  a cat;  the  dress  being  of  cats’  tails,  and  white  cats’  heads  and  a 
bell  with  ‘ Puss  ’ on  it  in  large  letters.” 

12  H.  C.  Bunner  wrote  a child’s  operetta  called  “Three  Little  Kittens  of  the 
Land  of  Pie,”  but  although  it  is  founded  on  the  familiar  nursery  rhyme  of  the 
“three  little  kittens  who  lost  their  mittens,”  and  although  all  the  characters  are 
cats.  King  Thomas  the  First,  Head  of  the  House  of  Grimalkin,  Ringtail,  Kitcat, 
Prince  Tortoiseshell  of  Caterwaulia,  Prince  Spot  of  Bacquephensia,  Prince  Vel- 
vet of  Miaouwa,  Princesses  Kitty,  Malta,  and  Angora,  there  is  not  a line  of  the 
dialogue  or  the  lyrics  which  suggests  cat  psychologj'  or  is  even  intended  to. 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

being  the  avoidance  of  sentimentality,  but  any  one  who  reads 
this  book,  and  both  lovers  of  cats  and  dogs  will  enjoy  It,  will 
see  how  well  she  has  succeeded.  These  dialogues,  in  the  form 
of  a series  of  short  one-act  plays,  between  a cat,  Klkl-la-Dou- 
cette,  and  a dog,  Toby-Chien,  although  dated  1905,  in  psycho- 
logical content  are  similar  to  certain  phases  of  the  modern 
Russian  drama.  Often,  instead  of  conversing,  each  animal 
proceeds  to  relate  his  own  thoughts,  to  think  aloud.  These 
thoughts  are  natural,  but  significant,  and,  of  course,  amusing. 
The  book  was  written.  Indeed,  " pour  amuser  Willy  ” Oc- 
casionally He  and  She,  the  human  companions  of  the  animals, 
appear  but  as  subordinate  figures  and  they  are  always  seen 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  cat  and  the  dog.  The  result 
Is  something  very  fine,  something  very  near  finished  art. 

In  the  opening  dialogue  KIki  explains  her  position  quite 
neatly:  “Neither  the  Two-footed  Ones,  nor  you,  compre- 

hend the  egoism  of  cats.  . . . They  christen  thus,  higglety- 
pigglety,  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  the  chaste  reserve, 
the  dignity,  the  fatiguing  self-denial,  which  comes  to  us  from 
the  impossibility  of  being  understood  by  them.  Dog  of  little 
distinction,  but  devoid  of  favouritism,  do  you  understand  me 
better?  The  cat  is  a guest  and  not  a plaything.  Truly  I do 
not  know  In  what  times  we  live ! The  Two-footed  Ones,  He 
and  She,  have  they  alone  the  right  to  be  sad,  to  be  gay,  to  lick 
the  plates,  to  complain,  to  be  capricious?  I too  have  my  ca- 
prices, my  griefs,  my  irregular  appetites,  my  hours  of  dreamy 
retreat  In  which  I withdraw  from  the  world.  . . There, 
indeed.  Is  the  whole  psychology  of  the  cat  in  a single  speech.  A 
little  later,  when  the  dog  asks  her  if  she  has  not  a secret  under- 
standing with  Him,  she  reveals  a little  more  of  her  soul: 
“ An  understanding  . . . yes.  Secret  and  chaste  and  pro- 
found. He  rarely  speaks,  and  scratches  the  paper  with  a 
sound  like  the  scratching  of  mice.  It  is  to  Him  that  I have 
given  my  avaricious  heart,  my  precious  Cat  heart.  And  He, 
without  words,  has  given  me  His.  The  exchange  has  made 

184 


LA  MORT  DE  COCHON,  TRAGEDIE 
From  an  engraving  in  Moncrif’s  Les  Chats 


The  Cat  in  the  Theatre 

me  happy  and  reserved,  and  sometimes  with  that  capricious 
and  dominating  instinct  which  makes  us  the  rivals  of  women, 
I try  my  power  on  Him.  For  Him,  when  we  are  alone,  the 
diabolical  pointed  ears  which  presage  a bound  on  the  paper 
which  he  scratches!  For  Him  the  tap-tap-tap  of  the  tam- 
bourining  paws  through  the  pens  and  scattered  letters.  For 
Him,  also,  the  persistent  mewing  which  demands  liberty, 

‘ The  Hymn  to  the  Doorknob,’  he  smilingly  observes,  or 
‘ The  Plaint  of  the  Sequestered.’  But  for  Him  also  the 
tender  contemplation  of  my  inspiring  eyes,  which  weigh  on  his 
bent  head  until  he  looks  at  me  and  there  results  a shock  of 
souls  so  foreseen  and  so  soft  that  I close  my  lids  in  exquisite 
shame.  . . . She  . . . moves  too  much,  often  bullies  me, 
fans  me  in  the  air,  holding  my  paws  two  by  two,  insists  on 
caressing  me,  laughs  at  me,  imitates  my  voice  too  well.  . . .” 

Toby-Chien  complains  that  sometimes  when  they  are  play- 
ing together  the  cat  treats  him  like  a stranger.  “ Could  not 
this  be  called  a bad  disposition?”  he  asks.  “No,”  answers 
the  cat,  “ a disposition  only.  A Cat’s  disposition.  It  is  in 
such  irritating  moments  that  I feel,  beyond  doubt,  the  humiliat- 
ing situation  in  which  I and  the  rest  of  my  race  live.  I can  re- 
call the  time  when  hierophants  in  long  tunics  of  linen  spoke  to 
us  on  bended  knees,  and  listened  timidly  to  our  sung  speech. 
Remember,  Dog,  that  we  have  not  changed.  Perhaps  there 
are  days  when  my  racial  consciousness  is  more  dominant,  when 
everything  justly  offends  me,  a brusque  gesture,  a gross  laugh, 
the  sound  of  a door  closing,  your  odour,  your  inconceivable 
audacity  in  touching  me,  in  surrounding  me  with  your  circular 
bounds.  . . .”  There  is  much  more  of  this  delicately  felt 
psychology;  the  effect  of  heat,  cold,  hunger,  movement, 
a storm  . . . even  death,  on  the  cat  is  discussed,  all  of  this 
wrapped  in  a rather  subtle  French  which  does  not  lend  itself 
very  gracefully  to  translation. 

In  the  last  dialogue  of  all,  there  is  an  amusing  and  sudden 
descent  to  bedroom  farce,  a veritable  Georges  Feydeau  comedv 

185 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

of  ithyphallic  manners,  in  which  a visiting  toy-dog  is  the  pro- 
tagonist. This  little  lady  proves  very  attractive  to  Toby  who 
is  about  to  complete  an  easy  seduction  when  the  miniature  one 
catching  sight  of  the  outraged  Kiki  sitting  atop  the  piano  and 
regarding  the  scene  with  a very  natural  horror,  yelps,  “ A 
tiger,  a tiger,  help!”  and  rushes  shrieking  from  the  room. 
It  may  be  remarked  just  here  that  the  cat,  although  a pas- 
sionate lover,  is  both  modest  and  subtle.  Dogs  conduct  their 
amours  with  little  regard  for  public  decency  but  a cat  makes 
love  at  night  in  shady  groves,  sanctified  by  the  natural  odours 
of  the  warm  earth,  or  in  the  hidden  recesses  of  gabled  roofs. 

There  is  no  dialogue  in  the  book  more  characteristic,  more 
delicious  than  the  scene  on  the  train.  He  and  She  are  on  their 
way  to  the  country.  Toby  is  loose  in  the  compartment;  Kiki, 
of  course,  has  been  carried  in  a basket.  She  is  released  at  the 
dinner  hour  so  that  she  may  enjoy  her  chicken  bone.  But 
soon  there  is  to  be  a change  of  cars;  how  is  Kiki  to  be  gotten 
back  into  the  basket?  He  and  She  discuss  this  question  until 
the  cat,  having  completed  an  elaborate  Roman  after-dinner 
toilet,  arches  her  back,  spreads  her  claws  in  front  of  her, 
descends  into  the  basket  and  sinks  into  mysterious  slumber! 
This  incident  is  a perfect  example  of  the  charming  perversity 
of  the  cat. 


i86 


Chapter  Eight:  The  Cat  in  Music 

Vous  qui  ne  sauez  pas  ce  vaut  la  musique, 

Venez-vous  en  ouir  le  concert  manifique 
Et  les  airs  rauissants  que  iaprens  aux  Matous. 

Puisque  ma  belle  voix  ren  ces  bestes  docilles, 

Je  ne  scaur ois  manquer  de  vous  instruire  tous 
Ni  de  vous  esclairsir  les  nottes  difftciles. 

In  “ The  Question  of  our  Speech,”  Mr.  Henry  James,  who 
is  usually  precise  and  careful  in  his  statements  of  fact,  has 
permitted  himself  to  say,  ” It  is  easier  to  overlook  any  ques- 
tion of  speech  than  to  trouble  about  it,  but  then  it  is  also 
easier  to  snort  or  to  neigh,  to  growl  or  to  ‘ meow,’  than  to 
articulate  and  intonate.”  I do  not  know  how  difficult  it  may 
be  to  neigh  or  to  growl  or  even  to  snort.  I have  never  tried  to 
make  any  of  these  sounds,  but  I have  no  confidence  in  my 
power  to  do  so.  About  ” meowing,”  however,  I am  not  at 
all  unenlightened  and  I could  assure  Mr.  James,  were  he  yet 
alive,  that  the  vocalization  of  a cat  is  not  so  simple  a matter 
as  apparently  he  takes  it  to  be.  Felic,  indeed,  may  be  re- 
garded as  a language.  Why  should  felines  have  voices  and 
ears  if  they  cannot  speak?  ^‘L’ existence  des  organes,’'  writes 
Voltaire  " entraine  tout  natureUement  celle  de  leurs  fonctions. 
. . . L’idee  que  les  animaux  ont  tous  les  organes  du  sentiment 
pour  ne  point  sentir  est  une  contradiction  ridicule.”  Pierquin 
de  Gembloux  expresses  the  theory  that  originally  men  and 
animals  spoke  a similar  language.  Men  have  expanded  their 
mode  of  speech,  while  the  animals  retain  their  original  tongues. 
“ Between  some  sounds  peculiar  to  certain  animals  and  other 
sounds  peculiar  to  the  idioms  of  certain  nations  — dead  or 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

alive  — there  is  very  often  evident  a greater  analogy,  a more 
profound  resemblance,  a more  indisputable  affinity,  than  one 
really  finds,  three  quarters  of  the  time,  between  certain  French 
words,  for  example,  and  their  Latin  progenitors.”  ^ Dupont 
de  Nemours,  a student  of  animals  and  their  peculiarities,  de- 
clared that  while  the  dog  used  only  vowel  sounds,  the  cat  in 
her  language  made  use  of  at  least  six  consonants,  M,  N,  G,  H, 
V,  and  F.  It  seems  obvious  to  me  that  P,  R,  S,  and  T may 
be  added  as  necessary  purring  and  spitting  consonants;  the 
H is  produced,  of  course,  by  the  rapid  expulsion  of  the  breath 
following  this  very  Magyar  explosion  of  expletives,  the  cat’s 
method  of  cursing.-  I have  never  heard  a cat  use  a V and 
I would  like  more  information  on  this  point.  “ Animals,” 
writes  the  ingenious  de  Nemours,  “ have  very  few  needs  and 
desires.  These  needs  are  imperious  and  these  desires  strong. 
Their  expression  is  therefore  marked,  but  the  ideas  are  not 
numerous  and  the  dictionary  short;  the  grammar  more  than 
simple,  very  few  nouns,  nearly  twice  as  many  adjectives,  the 
verb  nearly  always  taken  for  granted;  some  interjections  which, 
as  M.  de  Tracy  has  very  well  proved,  are  entire  phrases  in  a 
single  word:  no  other  parts  of  discourse.”  Cats  do  not  abuse 
the  use  of  words  as  men  do.  They  only  use  them  for  great 
moments,  to  express  love,  hunger,  pain,  pleasure,  danger,  etc. 
Naturally  then  their  language  is  extremely  poignant. 

Whatever  else  it  may  be,  and  whether  you  like  it  or  not,  the 
cat  language  is  musical;  in  her  conversation,  casual  or  pas- 
sionate, pussy  produces  tone.  As  Firestone  has  it  in  Middle- 
ton’s play.  The  JVitch, 

The  cat  sings  a brave  treble  in  her  own  language. 

1 “ Idiomologie  des  Animaux,  ou  locherches  historiques,  anatomiques,  physi- 
ologiques,  philologiques,  et  glossologiques  sur  le  langage  des  betes;”  Paris; 
1844. 

2 If  anything  else  were  needed  to  prove  the  superiority  of  cats,  this  would  be 
the  final  touch.  The  cat  is  the  only  animal  save  man,  that  knows  how  to 
swear,  and  in  this  department  only  a lumber-jack  or  a successful  opera-singer 
can  equal  him. 


188 


The  Cat  in  Music 

Moncrif  found  her  voice  “ belle  et  grande,”  but  the  ailuro- 
phobic  Ronsard  wrote, 

Le  chat  cria  un  miauleux  effroy. 

Whatever  else  may  be  said  of  the  cat’s  voice,  no  one  can 
accuse  this  musician  of  plagiarism;  her  music  is  her  own. 
Champfleury  counted  sixty-three  notes  in  the  mewing  of  cats, 
although  he  admitted  that  it  took  an  accurate  ear  and  a great 
deal  of  practice  to  distinguish  them.  On  the  other  hand  we 
have  the  testimony  of  the  Abbe  Galiani  who  could  only  discern 
twenty  notes  in  the  most  elaborate  mewing,  but  he  found  that 
these  constituted  a complete  vocabulary,  as  no  cat  ever  uses 
the  same  phrase  except  to  express  the  same  sentiment.  Any 
one  who  has  lived  on  friendly  terms  with  a cat  must  be  aware 
of  the  justness  of  this  opinion;  as  Pierquin  de  Gembloux  puts 
it,  “ Cliaque  passion  a sa  note  speciale.”  Recall  the  trill-like 
purr  ending  in  its  chromatic  upward  run  which  accompanies 
amatory  emotion  in  the  female,  the  shrill  cry  of  fright  or  anger, 
the  wail  of  hunger,  the  polite  but  peremptory  request  to  be 
let  in  or  out,  Willy’s  “ Hymn  to  the  Doorknob,”  the  demand 
for  water,  which  no  adequate  auditor  will  confuse  with  the 
demand  for  food,  and  the  quiet  purr  of  contentment,  which, 
of  course,  is  quite  different  from  the  kettle-drum  purr  of  vio- 
lent pleasure.^  Any  one  who  has  lived  on  amicable  terms 
with  a cat  will  have  no  difficulty  in  understanding  so  much  of 
her  language;  an  interested  observer  may  pick  up  much  more. 

3 Charles  Darwin  in  his  “Expression  of  Emotions”  writes:  “Cats  use  their 

voices  much  as  a means  of  expression,  and  they  utter  under  various  emotions 
and  desires,  at  least  six  or  seven  different  sounds.  The  purr  of  satisfaction 
which  is  made  during  both  inspiration  and  expiration,  is  one  of  the  most 
curious.  The  puma,  cheetah,  and  ocelot  likewise  purr;  but  the  tiger,  when 
pleased,  ‘ emits  a peculiar  short  snuffle,  accompanied  by  the  closure  of  the 
eyelids.’  It  is  said  that  the  lion,  jaguar,  and  leopard  do  not  purr.”  Madame 
Michelet  invented  several  words  for  different  kinds  of  purring,  in  French 
called  “ ronron  ” : monrrons,  monrons,  mou-ous,  mrrr:  “ Les  Chats,”  P.  25. 

She  also  invented  a verb  to  express  spitting  (op.  cit.,  P.  XXVII). 

Moncrif  (“Les  Chats,”  P.  55)  quotes  an  extraordinary  dialogue  by  M. 

189 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

For  instance,  my  Feathers  gives  vent  to  what  I call  her  “ hunt- 
ing cry  ” just  before  a leap  at  the  window  pane  after  a fly. 
This  sound  is  sib  to  the  faint  creaking  of  a rusty  hinge.  The 
Abbe  GalianI  distinguished  betw'een  the  male  and  female 
voices,  the  tenor  and  soprano  cats,  and  he  also  discovered  that 
two  sequestered  pussies  attended  to  their  love-making  in  si- 
lence, which  naturally  led  to  the  deduction  that  the  long  notes 
and  growls  of  the  alley  fences  and  rooftops  were  calls  to  the 
foe,  jealousies,  bickerings,  alarums  and  excursions,  rather  than 
amorous  cries.  What  Pennant  calls  “ a piteous,  squalling, 
jarring  lover  ” then  is  the  jealous  male  about  to  dispose  of  a 
rival. 

Others  say  that  the  gelded  cat  has  a special  cry  of  his 
own  which  gives  him  a place  alongside  the  male  sopranos  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  A cat,  of  course,  cannot  afford  to 
make  many  concessions  to  man,  but  she  finds  It  possible  and 
convenient  to  understand  the  meaning  of  a few  human  words 

Hauterot,  which  should  be  read  aloud  to  make  its  complete  effect.  The  scene 
is  near  the  fireplace  in  the  kitchen. 

La  Chatte,  voyant  iourner  la  hroche,  et  se  debarbouillant: 

C’a  est  bon. 

Le  Matou,  appercevant  la  Chatte,  et  s’approchant  avec  un  air  timide: 

Ne  fait-on  rien  ceans? 

La  Chatte,  ne  lu'i  jettant  qti’un  demi  regard: 

Ohn. 

Le  Matou,  d’un  ton  passionne: 

Ne  fait-on  rien  ceans? 

La  Chatte,  d’un  ton  de  pudeur: 

Oh  que  nenni. 

Le  Matou,  pique: 

Je  m’en  revas  done. 

La  Chatte,  se  radoucissant: 

Nenni. 

Le  Matou,  affectant  de  s’eloigner: 

Je  m’en  revas  done. 

La  Chatte,  d’un  air  honteux: 

Montez  la-haut,  plus  haut,  Montez  la-haut. 

Ensemble,  courant  sur  I’escalier: 

Montons  la-haut.  Montons  1^-haut! 

190 


The  Cat  in  Music 

like  “ dinner  and  “ meat.”  I can  throw  these  words  into  the 
middle  of  a sentence  in  conversation  in  any  tone  of  voice  and 
Feathers  will  come  bounding  to  the  ice-chest  where  she  knows 
her  meat  is  kept.  “ If  you  say  ‘ Hallelujah  ’ to  a cat,  it  will 
excite  no  fixed  set  of  fibres  in  connection  with  any  other  set  and 
the  cat  will  exhibit  none  of  the  phenomena  of  consciousness,” 
writes  Samuel  Butler.  “ But  if  you  say  ‘ M-e-e-at,’  the  cat 
will  be  there  in  a moment,  for  the  due  connection  between  the 
sets  of  fibres  has  been  established.” 

The  cat  seldom  suffers  from  aphonia  but  well-bred  cats 
make  but  few  sounds.  Occasionally  to  signify  their  inten- 
tions they  open  their  mmuths  but  do  not  speak.  Faute  de 
mew,  they  resort  to  gestures,  a matter  which  I have  discussed 
in  a previous  chapter. 

A thousand  years  or  so  before  Christ  the  Egyptians  associ- 
ated the  cat  with  music,  utilizing  the  graceful  head  and  figure 
of  the  beloved  animal  in  the  decoration  of  the  sistra.  The 
sistrum  consisted  of  a frame  of  bronze  or  brass,  into  which 
three  or  four  metal  bars  were  loosely  inserted,  so  as  to  pro- 
duce a jingling  noise  when  the  instrument  was  shaken.  Oc- 
casionally a few  metal  rings  were  strung  on  the  bars  to  in- 
crease the  sound  and  very  often  the  top  of  the  frame  was 
ornamented  with  the  figure  of  a cat.  The  instrument  was 
used  by  women  in  performances  of  religious  ceremonies  and 
its  Egyptian  name,  Carl  EngeH  tells  us,  was  seshesh.  Mon- 
crif  offers  readers  of  ” Les  Chats  ” several  curious  engrav- 
ings of  these  sistra  on  which  cats  are  carved  in  various  charm- 
ing attitudes.  There  is  another  engraving  in  this  book  of 
a statue  of  the  cat  god  holding  the  sistrum  in  such  a manner 
that  he  indicates  that  he  knows  how  to  use  it.  “ Why  does 
this  not  prove  a connection  between  instruments  of  music 
and  cats?”  asks  Moncrif.  “The  organization  of  cats  is 
musical;  they  are  capable  of  giving  many  modulations  to  their 

* “ The  Music  of  the  Most  Ancient  Nations”:  William  Reeves;  London. 
The  instrument  is  used  by  the  ballet  in  the  first  act  of  Aida. 

I9I 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

voices  and  in  the  different  passions  which  occupy  them  they 
use  diverse  tones.” 

They  no  instrument  use  ever. 

Each  is  his  own  flute  and  viol; 

All  their  noses  trumpets  are 
Bellies,  drums,  and  no  denial. 

They  in  chorus  raise  their  voices. 

In  one  general  intermezzo. 

Playing  fugues,  as  if  by  Bach, 

Or  by  Guido  of  Arezzo. 

Wild  the  symphonies  they’re  singing, 
hike  capriccios  of  Beethoven 

Or  by  Berlioz,  who’s  excelled 
By  their  strains  so  interwoven.^ 

The  discovery  of  a fresco  depicting  a cat  sitting  calmly  be- 
fore a sistrum  and  a goblet  led  Moncrif  into  further  disserta- 
tion which  is  worthy  of  reproduction  if  for  nothing  else  than 
the  stupendously  enlightened  theory  of  musical  criticism  which 
it  introduces.  This  theory,  exploited  as  it  was  in  a “ grave- 
ment  frivole”  book  on  cats,  published  in  1727,  was  probably 
not  taken  very  seriously  by  Moncrif’s  contemporaries;  there 
is  no  reason  to  believe,  indeed,  that  it  was  taken  very  seriously 
by  Moncrif  himself,  but  it  was  to  pop  up  again  two  hundred 
years  later  as  one  of  the  principal  tenets  of  a certain  school. 
The  combination  of  cat,  sistrum,  and  goblet,  Moncrif  takes 
as  proof  that  cats  were  admitted  to  Egyptian  banquets  and 
that  they  frequently  sang  there. 

Her  purrs  and  mews  so  evenly  kept  time. 

She  purred  in  metre  and  she  mewed  in  rhymel^ 

® Heinrich  Heine:  “Mimi”;  translated  by  Edgar  Alfred  Bowring. 

® Joseph  Green:  “A  Poet’s  Lamentation  for  the  Loss  of  his  Cat.” 

192 


The  Cat  in  Music 

“ Doubtless,”  writes  the  French  savant,  “ the  enemies  of 
cats  will  insist  that  cats  cannot  sing,  they  can  only  caterwaul. 
We  will  content  ourselves  by  retorting  that  what  seems  to  be 
mewing  in  the  cats  of  today  proves  nothing  regarding  the  cats 
of  antiquity,  arts  being  subject  to  great  revolutions;  we  add, 
with  all  possible  discretion,  that  the  dissonances  of  which 
these  enemies  complain,  only  indicate  a lack  of  knowledge  and 
taste  on  their  part.  . . . Modern  music  is  limited  to  a cer- 
tain division  of  sounds  which  we  call  tones  and  semitones  and 
we  ourselves  are  limited  enough  to  believe  that  this  same 
division  is  all  that  can  be  called  music;  therefore  we  have  the 
injustice  to  exclude  bellowing,  mewing,  whinneying  sounds  of 
which  the  intervals  and  relations,  perhaps  admirable  of  their 
kind,  are  beyond  our  understanding,  because  they  go  beyond 
the  limits  in  w'hich  we  are  restrained.  The  Egyptians,  no 
doubt,  were  more  enlightened;  they  had  really  studied  the 
music  of  animals;  they  knew  that  a sound  could  neither  be 
true  nor  false,  and  that  nearly  always  it  appears  to  be  either 
one  or  the  other  only  because  we  have  the  habit  of  judging  an 
assemblage  of  sounds  immediately  as  harmony  or  dissonance; 
they  knew,  for  example,  whether  the  cat  used  our  scale  or 
whether  she  availed  herself  of  the  tones  between  the  half 
tones,  which  would  make  a prodigious  difference  between  their 
music  and  ours;  they  appreciated  in  a chorus  of  toms  or  in  a 
recitative,  the  simple  or  more  perverted  modulations,  the  light- 
ness of  the  passages,  the  softness  of  the  sounds  or  their  pierc- 
ing quality,  from  which,  perhaps,  they  derived  their  pleasure. 
That  this  music  seems  to  us  a confused  sound,  a charivari,  is 
only  the  effect  of  our  ignorance,  a lack  of  delicacy  in  our 
organs,  of  justice  and  discernment.  The  music  of  the  peoples 
of  Asia  appears  to  us  at  least  ridiculous.  On  their  side  they 
find  no  common  sense  in  ours.  We  believe  reciprocally  to 

^ This  phrase  occurs  almost  word  for  word  in  Busoni’s  “ A New  Esthetic  of 
Music  ” ! 


193 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

hear  only  mewing;  thus  each  nation,  so  to  speak,  is  the  cat 
to  the  other  I ” ® 

Nearly  a hundred  years  ago  William  Gardiner  published  a 
curious  book  entitled  “ The  Music  of  Nature  ” in  which  evi- 
dently it  was  his  intention  to  prove  that  the  sounds  of  art  are 
derived  from  the  sounds  of  nature.  The  work  is  provided 
with  many  tables  of  examples  which  Mr.  Gardiner  has  taken 
down  in  barnyard  and  forest,  and  two  examples  of  cat  cries 
are  given.  These,  however,  are  not  very  convincing  as  they 
are  necessarily  expressed  in  the  tempered  scale.  Any  one 
who  has  listened  to  a cat  practising  vocalises  will  have  no 

® Hiddigeigei,  the  Tom  Cat,  speaks  similar  words  in  Scheffel’s  “ Der  Trompe- 
ter  von  Sakkingen  ” (translation  of  Jessie  Beck  and  Louise  Lorimer)  ; William 
Blackwood  and  Sons;  Edinburgh;  1893;  P.  99): 

None  the  less,  ’tis  ours  to  suffer 
That  <when  cat  love  finds  expression 
In  the  night,  in  sweetest  numbers. 

Men  accord  to  us  but  scorning. 

And  they  brand  as  ‘caterwauling’ 

All  our  choicest  compositions. 

Yet,  alas!  ’tis  ours  to  suffer 
That  these  same  contemptuous  mortals 
Call  such  sounds  into  existence 
As  I have  been  forced  to  hear. 

Sounds  like  these  are,  surely  garlands 
Bound  of  briars,  straw,  and  thistles. 

Where  the  stinging  nettle  fiaunteth. 

And  in  view  of  yonder  damsel. 

Grasping  yon  abhorrent  trumpet. 

Can  a man,  with  front  unblushing, 

Jeer  when  cats  are  making  music? 

Suffer,  gallant  heart  within  me. 

Suffer!  Times  are  surely  coming 
When  the  sapient  human  being 
Will  from  us  acquire  the  method 
Of  high  feeling’s  right  expression. 

When  the  rude  world,  struggling  upward 
Toward  the  climax  of  all  culture. 

Will  appreciate  ‘ caterwauling.’ 

History,  in  the  main,  is  righteous. 

All  injustice  is  atoned  for. 

194 


The  Cat  in  Music 

doubt  that  Moncrif  is  quite  correct  in  assuming  that  the  animal 
makes  use  of  smaller  divisions  than  semitones. 

So  early  as  the  sixteenth  century  we  have  a record  of 
the  cat  appearing  in  a musical  capacity  in  Europe,  strangely 
enough,  however,  as  part  of  an  instrument  and  not  as  a vol- 
untary vocal  performer.  When  the  King  of  Spain,  Philip 
II,  visited  the  Emperor,  his  father,  at  Brussels  in  1549,  among 
other  festivities  a singular  procession  was  arranged  in  his 
honour.  At  its  head  marched  an  enormous  bull,  balancing  a 
tiny  devil  between  his  horns,  from  which  shot  fireworks. 
Other  quaint  conceits  were  a youth  sewed  in  a bear’s  skin 
seated  on  a prancing  horse,  the  ears  and  tail  of  which  had 
been  cut,  and  the  Archangel  Saint  Michael  in  gold  and  purple 
robes,  holding  the  scales  in  his  hands.  But  the  most  curious 
detail  of  this  mad  procession,  and  the  one  which  awakened 
laughter  in  the  usually  melancholy  prince,  was  a chariot  on 
which  a bear  played  the  organ.  In  place  of  pipes  twenty 
small  boxes  each  held  a cat;  the  protruding  tails  were  bound 
to  the  keys  of  the  clavier  by  cords  so  that  it  was  only  neces- 
sary to  press  one  of  these  keys  to  produce  an  “ infernal  gal- 
lemaufry  o’  din.”  The  naive  chronicler  of  this  affair,  Juan 
Christoval  Calvete,  adds  that  the  felines  were  arranged  in 
such  a manner  as  to  produce  the  succession  of  the  notes  of 
the  scale,  but  this  would  have  been  impossible  as  no  cat  was 
ever  limited  to  a monotone  or  by  a semitone.  The  cat  organ 
seems  to  have  been  comparatively  common  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  and  even  as  late  as  the  eighteenth,  for 
Weckerlin  says  that  records  have  been  found  indicating  the 
existence  of  the  instrument  at  Saint-Germain  in  1753  and  at 
Prague  in  1773.  In  “ Musiciana  ” Weckerlin  reproduces  an 
old  engraving  of  a cat  organ.  A gay  rogue  with  one  leg 
plays  the  instrument  of  torture  while  dogs,  monkeys,  asses, 
and  cows  form  a choir.  Champfleury  found  an  old  picture  of 
the  cat  organ  in  Gaspard  Schott’s  “ Magia  universalis  ” 
(1657)  which  he  has  reproduced  in  “ Les  Chats.”  And  he 

195 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

describes  Father  Kircher’s  still  more  barbarous  variation  in 
which  the  touch  of  the  keys  drove  pointed  barbs  into' the  cats 
at  the  bases  of  their  tails.  This  almost  reads  like  the  ex- 
periments Professor  Mantegazza  describes  so  merrily  in  his 
“ Fisiologia  del  Dolore.” 

In  Champfleury’s  book  you  will  also  find  a copy  of  a quaint 
eighteenth  century  woodcut  of  an  animal  tamer,  carrying  cats 
on  his  head  and  shoulders  while  on  the  table  before  him  five 
cats  play  the  viol,  the  bass,  and  the  mandoline  and  still  others 
appear  to  be  singing  “ miaou,”  written  on  the  sheets  of  music 
before  them.  At  the  top  of  this  poster  in  large  letters  is 
written : 


Xa  fiDusique  Des  (Tbata 

and  underneath,  on  a phylactery,  ‘‘  Ceans  Ion  prend  pension- 
aires  et  le  maistre  va  monstrer  en  ville.”  Other  seventeenth 
century  posters  remain  to  prove  that  mountebanks  gave  con- 
certs of  cats  at  fairs.  Valmont  de  Bomare  ® describes  a booth 
at  the  Fair  of  Saint-Germain  over  which  had  been  inscribed 
the  single  word,  ''  Miaiilique.”  In  the  interior  some  cats  sat 
on  a table  before  a piece  of  music  and  at  a signal  given  by  a 
monkey  they  negotiated  feline  melodies  and  harmonies.  The 
whole  proceeding  seems  a perfect  symbol  for  the  chef 
d’orchestre  and  the  prime  donne  at  the  opera.  In  1758  an 
animal  trainer  named  Bisset  gave  what  he  actually  called  a 
“ Cats’  Opera  ” in  a hall  near  the  Haymarket  in  London. 

Other  early  engravings  are  more  fantastic  and  less  sig- 
nificant of  cruelty.  A common  one  shows  us  a dozen  cats, 
Angoras,  toms,  blacks  and  whites,  seated  before  a music  desk 
on  which  the  Solfege  of  Italy  in  oblong  form  lies  open.  The 
notes,  however,  are  replaced  by  mice,  their  tails  indicating  the 
crotchets  and  quavers.  Teniers  drew  a similar  scene  but 
added  an  owl  as  director  and  a monkey  flute  player.  In  An- 

® “ Dictionnaire  raisonne  d’histoire  naturelle”;  Fourth  Edition:  1800. 

196 


The  Cat  in  Music 

drew  Lang’s  version  of  “ The  White  Cat  ” the  Prince  visits 
a luxurious  apartment  “ upon  the  walls  of  which  were  painted 
the  histpries  of  Puss  in  Boots  and  a number  of  other  famous 
cats.  The  table  was  laid  for  supper  . . . when  suddenly  in 
came  about  a dozen  cats,  carrying  guitars  and  rolls  of  music, 
who  took  their  places  at  one  end  of  the  room,  and  under  the 
direction  of  a cat  who  beat  time  with  a roll  of  paper,  began 
to  mew  in  every  imaginable  key,  and  to  draw  their  claws 
against  the  strings  of  the  guitars,  making  the  strangest  kind 
of  music  that  could  be  heard.  The  Prince  hastily  stopped  up 
his  ears;  but  even  then  the  sight  of  these  comical  musicians 
sent  him  into  fits  of  laughter.”  Even  in  nursery  rhymes  the 
cat  has  standing  as  a virtuoso.  One  of  the  most  familiar 
speaks  of  “ the  cat  and  the  fiddle.”  J.  O.  Halliwell  “ gives; 

A cat  came  fiddling  out  of  a barn. 

With  a pair  of  bagpipes  under  her  arm. 

This  musical  feat  would  have  been  beyond  the  powers  of 
Mischa  Elman  or  Efrem  Zimbalist,  but  puss’s  vocal  achieve- 
ments seem  to  have  been  meagre : 

She  could  sing  nothing  but  ‘'Fiddle  cum  fee^ 

The  mouse  has  married  the  humble-bee.” 

With  SO  many  examples  before  them  it  does  not  seem  un- 
natural that  composers  should  have  begun  to  imitate  the 
sounds  made  by  cats.  Both  in  Germany  and  Italy,  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  there  was  produced  a monstrous  lot  of 
burlesque  imitative  music:  the  cackling  of  hens  all  on  one 
note,  ending  on  a fifth  above,  the  mewing  of  rival  toms  in 
nice  chromatic  order  with  a staccato,  of  course,  by  way  of  a 
spit  were  favourite  pastimes  of  the  severest  German  con- 
trapuntists. Even  the  solemn  Marcello  has  left  two  elaborate 
choruses,  one  for  sopranos,  the  other  for  contraltos,  who  are 

10  “ The  Blue  Fairy  Book.” 

“ The  Nursery  Rhymes  of  England”:  1844. 

197 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

asked  to  baa  like  sheep  and  mou  like  oxen.  Frederick  Niecks 
gives  us  several  examples  in  which  the  cat  appeared.  Adriano 
Banchieri,  in  his  carnival  farce  in  madrigal  form  (1608),  has 
written  a “ contrapunto  bestiale  alia  mente”  (an  improvised 
bestial  counterpoint),  where  above  the  fundamental  bass  mel- 
ody, a dog,  a cuckoo,  a cat,  and  an  owl,  barks  (“babbau”), 
calls  (“cuccu”),  mews  (“gnao”),  and  cries  (“chiu”). 
. . . Adam  Krieger  (1667)  composed  a four-part  vocal  fugue 
in  which  a characteristic  chromatic  subject  is  sung  to  “ miau, 
miau.”  An  instrumental  example  also  dates  from  this  period, 
the  Capriccio  stravagante  (1627)  by  the  Italian,  Carlo  Fa- 
rina, court  violinist  at  Dresden,  with  its  imitations  of  the 
cackling  of  hens,  barking  of  dogs,  mewing  of  cats,  etc.  Exam- 
ples of  this  kind  of  thing  are  to  be  found  in  folk-music  too. 
Francesc  Pujol’s  arrangement  of  a Catalan  folk-song.  La  Gata 
i en  Belitre,  in  which  the  male  chorus  imitates  the  mewing  of 
cats,  was  recently  (1920)  performed  by  the  Schola  Cantorum 
in  New  York. 

W.  F.  Apthorp  says  that  when  he  was  looking  over  the 
score  of  a new  symphony  (name  not  given)  at  rehearsal  with 
Otto  Dresel,  the  latter  remarked,  “Miaou!  Miaou!  we 
shall  have  to  get  another  niise  en  scene  for  the  concert;  we 
ought  to  have  a roof,  with  a ridgepole  and  some  chimneys.” 
So  is  poor  pussy’s  voice  held  in  disrepute.  Flowever  there 
are  examples  of  cat  program  music  even  in  the  nineteenth  and 
twentieth  centuries.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  spirited  di- 
alogue between  Puss  in  Boots  and  the  White  Cat  in  the  last 
act  of  Tschaikovsky’s  ballet.  The  Sleeping  Beauty,  in  which  the 
dancers  simulate  a lively  scene  between  two  cats  and  the  or- 
chestra imitates  the  sounds  made  by  the  animals  including,  of 
course,  a realistic  spit.  G.  Berthold’s  Duet  for  Two  Cats 
seems  to  have  enjoyed  considerable  popularity  although  I have 
never  heard  it  sung.  The  single  word,  “ miau  ” is  vocalized 
by  two  singers  to  runs  and  scales  which  are  sufficiently  catlike 

12  Programme  music. 


198 


The  Cat  in  Music 

to  be  amusing.  In  1917  Igor  Stravinsky’s  Berceuses  du  Chat 
for  a woman’s  voice  and  three  clarinets  were  published. 
These  are  four  short  songs,  on  popular  Russian  texts,  which 
have  been  translated  into  French  by  C.  F.  Ramuz.  The  titles 
are  Sur  le  poele^  Interieur,  Dodo,  and  Ce  qu’il  a,  le  chat.^^ 
They  were  evidently  written  by  a lover  of  cats  and  they  un- 
doubtedly give  one  the  feeling  of  cats  but  imitation  in  music 
is  no  specialty  of  Stravinsky  and,  except  in  the  first  song,  in 
which  one  of  the  clarinets  purrs,  there  is  very  little  attempt 
made  to  transfer  what  Agnes  Repplier  describes  as  “ the 
curious  and  complicated  vocalism  of  the  cat  ” into  the  range 
of  art  music.  They  are  strange,  exotic,  curious  little  sketches 
and  in  hearing  Eva  Gauthier  sing  them  I was  reminded  of  a 
passage  in  Algernon  Blackwood’s  “ Ancient  Sorceries,”  the 
passage  in  which  Vezin  listens  to  the  invisible  out-door  or- 
chestra in  the  enchanted  town  which  he  visits  unwittingly: 
“ He  recognized  nothing  that  they  played,  and  it  sounded  as 
though  they  were  simply  improvising  without  a conductor. 
No  definitely  marked  time  ran  through  the  pieces,  which  ended 
and  began  oddly  after  the  fashion  of  wind  through  an  Aeolian 
harp.  . . . There  was  a certain  queer  sense  of  bewitchment 
in  it  all.  The  music  seemed  to  him  oddly  unartificial.  It 
made  him  think  of  trees  swept  by  the  wind,  of  night  breezes 
singing  among  wires  and  chimney-stacks,  or  in  the  rigging  of 
invisible  ships;  or  — and  the  simile  leaped  up  in  his  thoughts 
with  a sudden  sharpness  of  suggestion  — a chorus  of  animals, 
of  wild  creatures,  somewhere  in  desolate  places  of  the  world, 
crying  and  singing  as  animals  will,  to  the  moon.  He  could 
fancy  he  heard  the  wailing,  half-human  cries  of  cats  upon  the 
tiles  at  night,  rising  and  falling  with  weird  intervals  of  sound, 
and  this  music,  muffled  by  distance  and  the  trees,  made  him 
think  of  a queer  company  of  these  creatures  on  some  roof  far 

Sung  by  Eva  Gauthier  at  a concert  at  the  Greenwich  Village  Theatre  in 
New  York,  December  15,  1919. 

“ John  Silence.” 


199 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

away  in  the  sky,  uttering  their  solemn  music  to  one  another 
and  the  moon  in  chorus. 

“ It  was,  he  felt  at  the  time,  a singular  image  to  occur  to 
him,  yet  it  expressed  his  sensation  pictorially  better  than  any- 
thing else.  The  instruments  played  such  impossibly  odd  in- 
tervals, and  the  crescendos  and  diminuendos  were  so  very 
suggestive  of  cat-land  on  the  tiles  at  night,  rising  swiftly,  drop- 
ping without  warning  to  deep  notes  again,  and  all  in  such 
strange  confusion  of  discords  and  accords.  But,  at  the  same 
time  a plaintive  sweetness  resulted  on  the  whole,  and  the  dis- 
cords of  these  half-broken  instruments  were  so  singular  that 
they  did  not  distress  his  musical  soul  like  fiddles  out  of  tune.” 
One  must  not  forget  Mortimer  Wilson’s  Funeral  of  the 
Calico  Cat,^^  which,  James  Huneker  avowed,  “ was  quite  tiny 
at  the  beginning  of  the  music,  but  grew  to  monstrous  propor- 
tions before  its  interment.”  There  is  also  Edgar  Stillman 
Kelley’s  Cheshire  Cat  from  his  Alice  in  Wonderland  suite. 
Among  Moussorgsky’s  Children’s  Songs  you  will  find  The 
Brigand  Cat.  Tom  Dobson  wrote  a song  called  The  Cat  and 
one  of  the  popular  airs  of  The  Tenderfoot  concerned  a tom. 
Another  popular  song  of  a couple  of  decades  ago  was  The  Cat 
Came  Back.  The  Me-ow  one-step,  with  its  superb  matou  on 
the  cover  and  its  indications  to  the  orchestra  to  sing  the  cat 
cries  at  appropriate  intervals  also  comes  to  mind.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  a rain  of  cats  saved  the  day  in  Hans,  the 
Flute  Player  and  that  a cat-o’-nine-tails  plays  a considerable 
part  in  ” that  infernal  nonsense.  Pinafore.” 

There  have  been  musical  cats.  According  to  Louis  Wain, 
the  black  cat  of  Saint  Clement  Danes  Church  in  London  was 
accustomed  to  climb  up  to  the  top  of  the  organ  pipes  and  enjoy 
an  occasional  concert  alone.  Perhaps  a similar  love  for  music 
caused  the  death  of  another  puss  who  was  found  desiccated 
and  recumbent  in  one  of  the  long  organ  pipes  of  Westminster 
Abbey  which  had  been  out  of  tune  for  some  time.  John  L. 

15  Played  by  the  Philharmonic  Society  in  New  York;  November  1918. 

200 


The  Cat  in  Music 

Runciman  writes:  “Perhaps  one  reason  musicians  are 

fond  of  cats  is  that  cats  are  extremely  fond  of  music.  But 
their  taste  generally  requires  a great  deal  of  educating.  I 
have  known  them  even  to  like  such  songs  as  Mr.  Galloway 
mentioned  in  the  House  recently — The  horse  what  missus 
dries  the  clothes  on  and  The  Boers  got  my  daddy.  It  is  best 
to  commence  with  a course  of  Bach’s  ‘ Forty-eight  ’ — but  it  is 
necessary  to  close  the  top  of  the  piano  or  you  may  find  the 
instrument  clogged  with  bits  of  meat,  dead  mice,  corks,  etc. 
The  violin  troubles  them  enormously  — I believe  they  lose 
their  sleep  on  its  account,  for  they  are  always  firmly  convinced 
that  it  is  the  bow  that  sounds.  The  piano  they  can  play  by 
walking  over  the  notes;  but  though  they  can  knock  a bow  on 
the  floor  and  shove  it  about  nothing  in  the  way  of  music  comes 
of  it.  Mr.  Balling  once  played  the  viola-alta  at  my  house  and 
the  eyes  of  Felix  Mendelssohn  glistened  with  hope.  The  per- 
formance over  the  bow  was  duly  experimented  with.  Alas! 
— no  result;  and  Felix  retired  to  a corner  and  sat  there  half 
an  hour  wrapt  in  melancholy  thought.’’  Heinrich  Heine  de- 
scribes a similar  performance  on  the  part  of  his  uncle’s  An- 
gora, who  dragged  an  old  flute  over  the  garret  floor.  An  in- 
habitant of  one  of  the  western  United  States  was  a believer 
in  the  cat’s  love  of  music.  He  left  all  his  property  for  the 
establishment  of  a feline  infirmary.  And  in  his  will  he  pro- 
vided that  an  accordeon  “ be  played  in  the  auditorium  by 
one  of  the  regular  nurses,  to  be  selected  for  that  purpose 
exclusively,  the  playing  to  be  kept  up  for  ever  and  ever,  with- 
out cessation  day  and  night,  in  order  that  the  cats  may  have 
the  privilege  of  always  hearing  and  enjoying  that  instrument 
which  is  the  nearest  approach  to  the  human  voice.”  Car- 
men Sylva  desired  to  make  her  kitten,  Piiffchen,  musical  and 
held  him,  therefore,  in  a little  fur  bag  in  her  lap  whenever 

16  “ My  French  Cats”;  “Saturday  Review”;  London;  April  2,  1904. 

Joseph  Winthrop  Moses:  “Something  about  Cats”;  “New  Eclectic”; 
Baltimore;  November  1870. 


201 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

she  played  the  piano,  but  Piiffchen  was  intransigent  and  strug- 
gled to  get  awayd®  Gautier’s  silver-grey  Angora,  Zizi,  was 
a melomaniac.  Gautier  describes  her  as  listening  to  music 
with  sleepy  satisfaction  and  she  would  often  go  so  far  as  to 
pick  her  way  up  and  down  the  keys  of  the  open  pianoforte. 
Now  my  cat.  Feathers,  has  a talent  for  piano  playing.  Some- 
times she  walks  sedately  from  one  end  of  the  keyboard  to  the 
other,  producing  an  exotic  succession  of  tones;  at  other  times 
she  pounces  on  a group  of  keys,  making  sounds  not  unallled  to 
those  which  Leo  Ornstein  evokes  in  The  Wild  Men’s  Dance. 
On  these  occasions  she  will  leap  wildly  from  treble  to  bass, 
tearing  tone  and  melody  to  tatters,  trying  to  paw  the  secret  of 
the  hidden  pussy  screams  from  the  rosewood  box.  She  has  a 
particular  penchant,  after  the  manner  of  her  race,  for  music 
at  night  and  it  is  no  rarety  to  awaken  at  2 A.  M.  to  hear  Feath- 
ers attempting  prodigious  scales.  There  is  at  least  one  legend 
of  a cat  who  furnished  a composer  with  a theme  in  this  fashion. 
One  of  Scarlatti’s  compositions  bears  the  title.  The  Cat’s 
Fugue  (at  least  in  modern  editions)  and  the  story  goes  that  a 
stroll  on  the  keyboard  by  Scarlatti’s  cat  gave  the  master  the 
subject  to  the  fugue  which  is  as  follows: 


4'J.  IJ.  |J.  If  f= 


The  composition  has  always  been  popular  with  pianists  and 
both  Liszt,  who  often  played  it,  and  von  Billow  have  arranged 
editions  of  it.  Biilow  in  his  edition  suggests  that  the 
droll  suggestion  of  the  title  shall  not  be  lost  sight  of 
during  performance:  “The  first  three  measures  present 

the  mechanical  promenade  of  the  cat  across  the  key- 
board (the  theme  proper)  ; the  following  ones  exhibit  the 
justificatory  touch  of  the  master-hand,  thoughtfully  arranging 

Carmen  Sylva:  “My  Kittens”;  “Century  Magazine”;  August  1908. 

202 


The  Cat  in  Music 

the  first  chaotic  ‘ product  of  Nature.’  The  marks  which  I 
have  added  for  the  shading  — an  almost  rough  forte  for  the 
fore-phrase,  and  a sudden,  tranquillizing  piano  for  the  after- 
phrase — will  provide,  I think,  the  simplest  means  for  dis- 
playing this  humorous  contrast,  a fairly  consistent  observance 
of  which  is  to  be  recommended  throughout.”  At  the  climax 
of  the  piece  Billow  gives  the  following  advice:  ” In  the  suc- 

ceeding twenty-two  measures,  up  to  the  //  (D  minor)  the  cat 
must,  so  to  speak,  swell  to  a tiger  — something  like  the  poodle 
in  Faust’s  study;  i.  e.,  in  plain  prose,  there  should  be  a con- 
tinuous dramatic  intensification  in  the  effect.” 

Sacchini,  too,  was  beholden  to  cats.  He  could  only  com- 
pose, he  assured  his  friends,  when  he  was  surrounded  by  them. 
Their  presence  inspired  his  gracious  and  seductive  music. 
Weckerlin  quotes  the  terms  of  the  strange  will  of  Made- 
moiselle Dupuy,  a celebrated  harpist  who  lived  and  died  during 
the  seventeenth  century.  She  stipulated  that  no  hunchbacks, 
cripples,  or  blind  persons  should  be  permitted  to  attend  her 
funeral  and  she  left  her  fortune  to  her  cat.  In  Moncrif’s 
” Les  Chats  ” there  is  a delightful  engraving  showing  the  cat 
on  the  deathbed  of  his  mistress  while  two  attorneys  are  mak- 
ing out  her  testament.  Mademoiselle  Dupuy  believed  that 
she  owed  her  skill  as  a musician  to  this  cat,  who  sat  beside  her 
while  she  performed,  manifesting  pleasure  or  annoyance,  ac- 
cordingly as  she  played  well  or  ill.  Consequently  she  left  him 
both  a town  and  a country  house  with  sufficient  income  to  keep 
them  up  properly.  Her  relatives,  however,  succeeded  in 
wresting  this  bequest  away  from  the  unfortunate  feline,  who 
probably  was  not  even  allowed  to  be  present  in  court. 

Some  of  the  most  amusing  passages  of  Rimsky-Korsakoff’s 
autobiography  are  devoted  to  Borodin  and  his  menage.  The 
following  paragraphs  are  descriptive  of  Borodin’s  cats: 
” Many  cats,  that  the  Borodins  lodged,  marched  back  and 

^^The  Cat’s  Fugue:  edited  and  fingered  by  Hans  von  Biilow;  G.  Schirmer; 
New  York. 


203 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

forth  on  the  table,  thrusting  their  noses  into  the  plates  or 
leaping  on  the  backs  of  the  guests.  These  felines  enjoyed 
the  protection  of  Catherine  Sergueievna.  They  all  had  bi- 
ographies.  One  was  called  Fisher  because  he  was  successful 
in  catching  fish  through  the  holes  in  the  frozen  river.  An- 
other, known  as  Lelong,  had  the  habit  of  bringing  home 
kittens  in  his  teeth  which  were  added  to  the  household.  More 
than  once,  dining  there,  I have  observed  a cat  walking  along 
the  table.  When  he  reached  my  plate  I drove  him  away; 
then  Catherine  Sergueievna  would  defend  him  and  recount 
his  biography.  Another  installed  himself  on  Borodin’s 
shoulders  and  heated  him  mercilessly. 

“ ‘ Look  here,  sir,  this  is  too  much  I ’ cried  Borodin,  but 
the  cat  never  moved.” 

We  learn  from  Heine  that  Meyerbeer  hated  cats  and  Old 
Fogy  tells  an  apocryphal  story  of  Brahms  which  is  amusing 
enough  to  repeat  here : “ Brahms,  so  it  is  said,  was  an  avowed 

enemy  of  the  feline  tribe.  Unlike  Scarlatti,  who  was  passion- 
ately fond  of  chords  of  the  diminished  cats,  the  phlegmatic 
Johannes  spent  much  time  at  the  window,  particularly  of 
moonlit  nights,  practising  counterpoint  on  the  race  of  cats,  the 
kind  that  infest  backyards  of  dear  old  Vienna.  Dr.  Antonin 
Dvorak  had  made  his  beloved  friend  and  master  a present  of 
a peculiar  bow  and  arrow,  which  is  used  in  Bohemia  to  slay 
sparrows.  In  and  about  Bohemia  it  is  named  in  the  native 
tongue,  ‘ Slug]  hym  inye  nech.'  With  this  formidable  weapon 
did  the  composer  of  orchestral  cathedrals  spend  his  leisure 
moments.  Little  wonder  that  Wagner  became  an  anti-vivi- 
sectionist,  for  he,  too,  had  been  up  in  Brahms’s  backyard,  but 
being  near-sighted,  usually  missed  his  cat.  Because  of  arduous 
practice  Brahms  always  contrived  to  bring  down  his  prey,  and 
then  — O diabolical  device  ! — after  spearing  the  poor  brutes, 
he  reeled  them  into  his  room  after  the  manner  of  a trout 

20  N.  A.  Rimsky-Korsakoff : “ Ma  Vie  Musicale”;  Introduction  et  Adapta- 

tion par  E.  Halperine-Kaminsky ; Pierre  Lafitte;  Paris;  1914;  P.  73- 

204 


LE  GARCON  AU  CHAT 

From  the  painting  by  Pierre  Auguste  Renoir 


The  Cat  in  Music 

fisher.  Then  — so  Wagner  averred  — he  eagerly  listened 
to  the  expiring  groans  of  his  victims  and  carefully  jotted  down 
in  his  note-book  their  antemortem  remarks.  Wagner  de- 
clared that  he  worked  up  these  piteous  utterances  into  chamber 
music,  but  then  Wagner  had  never  liked  Brahms.  ...” 
Baudelaire  once  said,  “ I love  Wagner,  but  the  music  I prefer 
is  that  of  a cat  hung  by  its  tail  outside  of  a window,  trying  to 
stick  to  the  panes  of  glass  with  its  claws.  There  is  an  odd 
grating  on  the  glass  which  I find  at  the  same  time  strange, 
irritating,  and  singularly  harmonious.”  Of  course  this  was 
pure  imaginative  fiction  on  Baudelaire’s  part,  who  was  too 
much  attached  to  pussies  to  torture  them. 

Singers  have  usually  been  a little  sensitive  on  the  subject 
of  cats,  for  the  resemblances  between  a certain  kind  of  singing 
and  caterwauling  are  more  than  casual  and  in  parody,  bur- 
lesque, and  even  in  criticism  the  soprano  often  finds  herself 
side  by  side  with  the  tom  cat. 

And  loudest  of  all  was  heard  a voice 

Which  sounded  languid  and  shrieking 
As  Sontag’s  voice  became  at  last. 

When  utterly  broken  and  squeaking. 

A hundred  years  or  so  ago  in  London  there  lived  a celebrated 
music  hall  performer  who  was  called  ” Cat  Harris  ” because 
he  burlesqued  the  singers  of  the  Italian  Opera,  imitating  them 
In  tones  of  the  feline  race.  In  Cassell’s  “ Old  and  New  Lon- 
don ” I found  the  following:  “ When  Foote  first  opened  the 

Haymarket  Theatre,  amongst  other  projects  he  proposed  to 
entertain  the  public  with  imitation  of  cat-music.  For  this 
purpose  he  engaged  a man  famous  for  his  skill  in  mimicking 
the  mewing  of  the  cat.  This  person  was  called  ‘ Cat  Harris.’ 
As  he  did  not  attend  the  rehearsal  of  this  odd  concert,  Foote 
desired  Shuter  would  endeavour  to  find  him  out  and  bring 

21  Heinrich  Heine;  “The  Young  Cats’  Club  for  Poetry-Music”;  transla- 
tion by  Edgar  Alfred  Bowring. 


205 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

him  with  him.  Shuter  was  directed  to  some  court  in  the 
Minories,  where  this  extraordinary  musician  lived;  but,  not 
being  able  to  find  the  house,  Shuter  began  a cat  solo;  upon 
this  the  other  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  answered  him 
with  a cantata  of  the  same  sort.  ‘ Come  along,’  said  Shuter, 
‘ I want  no  better  information  that  you  are  the  man.  Foote 
stays  for  us;  we  cannot  begin  the  cat-opera  without  you.’” 
W.  T.  Parke,  forty  years  principal  oboe  player  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre,  in  his  “ Memoirs  ” tells  us  why  Madame 
Catalan!  was  almost  the  only  great  singer  of  the  period  with 
whom  he  was  not  acquainted.  He  had  written  a song  for 
Miss  Feron,  which  she  sang  at  Vauxhall  Gardens,  called  The 
Romp,  or  the  Great  Catalan}.  The  song  contained  an  imita- 
tion of  Catalan!  in  one  of  her  airs  and  was  intended  as  a 
compliment  to  the  singer.  However,  in  the  recitative  which 
introduced  the  air,  ending  with  the  words,  ” Great  Catalan!,” 
it  became  necessary,  in  order  to  make  the  music  accord  with 
the  poetry,  to  repeat  a part  of  the  name  so  that  it  read  thus, 
” Great  Cat,  Great  Catalan! ! ” The  result,  we  learn,  roused 
Madame  Catalani’s  ire.^^  But  Jenny  Lind  as  a child  always 
sang  to  her  cat,  of  whom  she  was  inordinately  fond.  “ Her 
favourite  seat,”  her  son  is  quoted  as  writing  in  Canon  Scott 
Holland’s  book,  “ was  in  the  window  of  the  steward’s  room, 
which  looked  out  on  the  lively  street  leading  up  to  the  church 
of  St.  Jacob.  Here  she  sat  and  sang  to  the  cat;  and  the  people 
passing  in  the  street  used  to  hear  and  wonder.”  Whether 
Sophie  Arnould  cared  for  cats  or  not  I do  not  know,  but  in 
a letter  to  Belanger,  dated  August  2,  1801,  she  complains 
that  she  has  not  money  left  to  keep  one.  We  learn  from 
J.  H.  Mapleson’s  ” Memoirs  ” that  lima  de  Murska  travelled 
with  a small  menagerie,  including  an  Angora  cat  which  her 
monkey  tried  to  kill  on  one  occasion.  Marie-Anne  de 
Camargo  kept  white  Angora  cats  with  her  dogs  in  her  old  age. 

22  Southey  named  a cat  Madame  Catalan!;  others  must  have  done  so  as 
naturally  as  perfumers  of  today  christen  sweet  odours  after  Mary  Garden. 

206 


The  Cat  in  Music 

Marie  Engle  was  fond  of  cats;  so  is  Emmy  Destinnova. 
Most  singers,  however,  seem  to  prefer  dogs,  whose  voices 
offer  no  basis  for  invidious  comparison,  and  who  do  not  object 
to  a life  of  travel. 

There  are,  on  the  other  hand,  many  instances  recorded  of 
cats  who  nursed  an  antipathy  towards  music  and  musicians. 
Pierquin  de  Gembloux,  in  his  curious  “ Traite  de  la  Folie  des 
Animaux,”  asserts  that  he  has  known  of  cases  in  which  a cat 
has  been  thrown  into  convulsions  by  the  sound  of  singing. 
Some  cats  seem  to  have  a sound  taste  in  such  matters,  the 
aforementioned  Mademoiselle  Dupuy’s  cat,  for  example; 
Jenny  Lind’s  cat,  too,  probably  gave  his  mistress  signs  of  his 
interest  in  proper  tone  production.  Gautier’s  Madame 
Theophile,  the  same  delightful  puss  who  had  the  horrible 
experience  with  a talking  parrot,  was  a musical  amateur  of 
taste  and  discretion.  “ Sitting  on  a pile  of  scores  she  listened 
attentively  and  with  visible  signs  of  pleasure  to  singers.  But 
piercing  notes  made  her  nervous  and  at  the  high  A she  never 
failed  to  close  the  mouth  of  the  singer  with  her  soft  paw. 
This  was  an  experiment  which  it  amused  many  to  make  and 
which  never  failed.  It  was  impossible  to  deceive  this  cat 
dilettante  on  the  note  in  question.  . . .”  In  a letter  to  Samuel 
Butler,  dated  May  8,  1883,  Miss  Savage  writes,  “A  lady  at 
the  Gallery  was  telling  me  about  her  cat;  he  is  a most  intel- 
ligent creature,  and  she  recounted  various  instances  of  his 
sagacity,  winding  up  with,  ‘ and  when  I begin  to  play  the  piano, 
he  always  goes  out  of  the  room.’  ”...  Eva  Gauthier  has  told 
me  of  an  experience  she  once  had  in  Paris  when  she  was  sing- 
ing Der  Erlkonig  in  a friend’s  drawing-room.  As  she  was 
singing  the  cries  of  the  child,  suddenly  and  entirely  without 
warning,  for  she  was  unaware  of  the  presence  of  any  animal, 
a tiny  Siamese  kitten,  a tawny  taut  ball,  bounded  from  the 
next  room  and  sprang  at  her  throat  into  which  he  dug  his 
claws.  ...  In  her  charmingly  personal  book  “ Les  Chats,” 
to  which  I have  referred  so  many  times  already,  Madame 

207 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Jules  Michelet  gives  several  examples  of  cats  who  were 
musical  amateurs.  The  most  interesting  of  these,  perhaps,  was 
Minette,  who  listened  to  her  mistress  singing  old  folk-songs 
of  the  province  where  she  had  lived  as  a child.  “ If  I sang 
a simple  air,  spun  out  in  a low  voice,  like  a nurse’s  humming, 
she  kept  her  place,  raising  her  eyes  dreamily  to  mine.  But 
if  the  air  was  melancholy,  if  there  were  tears  in  my  voice,  she 
began  to  be  agitated.  Her  obvious  uneasiness,  however,  indi- 
cated a certain  kind  of  pleasure.  If  the  tone  raised  and 
mounted  to  that  accent  of  acute  grief  which  is  precisely  the 
tone  of  a violin,  Minette  gave  signs  of  sickly  excitement.  The 
Serenade  of  Schubert,  for  example,  imploring  in  its  restrained 
passion,  slow  at  first,  sombre  as  a song  of  night;  this  prayer 
which,  from  the  profound  depths,  rises  to  ardent  supplication, 
and  takes  as  witness  the  bird,  its  sighs,  the  emotional  silence 
of  Nature, — this  supreme  cry  of  a wounded  heart  succeeded 
in  creating  the  greatest  excitement  in  Minette.  Never,  I be- 
lieve, did  a woman’s  soul  exhibit  greater  grief.  She  sat  on 
my  knees,  her  eyes  fastened  only  to  my  lips.  If  I continued, 
she  placed  her  two  paws  on  my  breast,  relaxing  herself  in  a 
nervous  swoon.  Her  voice  recalled  that  shivering  mew  which 
in  the  cat  says  so  many  things.  Her  eyes,  in  spite  of  the 
bright  light,  were  dilated,  as  they  are  in  a state  of  apprehen- 
sion or  suffering.  If  I still  continued  to  mount  higher,  with 
a firm  gesture,  entirely  human,  she  applied  her  two  rigid  paws 
to  my  mouth  and  sealed  my  lips.”  This  little  scene  of 
Minette’s  may  have  been  excusable.  Madame  Michelet  her- 
self admits  that  she  was  no  musician;  her  singing  of  Schubert 
Ueder  may  have  been  unendurably  trying  to  a feline  melo- 
maniac. 

Elsewhere  in  her  book,^"*  Madame  Michelet  educes  the 
interesting  theory  that  while  cats  are  often  painfully  affected 
by  sounds  of  nearby  musical  instruments,  the  faint  tinkle  of 
music  in  the  distance  often  gives  them  a pleasurable  sensation, 

“ Les  Chats,”  P.  30. 

208 


The  Cat  in  Music 

“ inspires  them  with  an  amiable  madness.”  Dining  with  some 
friends  one  night  opposite  the  Cafe  Turc,  in  which  a ball  was 
being  given,  she  was  astonished  to  see  nine  cats  on  the  roof, 
directly  over  the  dance  hall,  nine  cats,  grey,  brown,  and  black 
in  the  soft  light  of  the  roof.  These  cats  silently  and  gravely 
moved  across  the  sky  in  some  esoteric  relation  to  the  music. 
With  arched  backs,  tails  held  high  or  lopped  off,  stiff  legs, 
stretched,  steel  ham-strings  refalling  to  each  measure,  they 
manifested  a marvellous  precision.  Occasionally  when  the 
band  played  a fast  quadrille  they  leaped  about  quite  insanely. 

Another  and  fearsome  link  binds  the  cat  to  music,  the 
terrible  catgut.  Swift  gives  this  example  of  weak  wit  in  his 
“ Art  of  Punning” : “ Why  are  rats  and  mice  so  much  afraid 

of  bass-viols  and  fiddles?  Because  they  are  strung  with 
catgut.”  And  in  his  verse  with  the  gruesome  title,  ‘‘  The 
Music  of  the  Future,”  Oliver  Herford  comments  on  the 
matter  as  follows : 

The  politest  musician  that  ever  was  seen 
JV as  Montague  Meyerbeer  Mendelssohn  Green. 

So  extremely  polite  he  would  take  off  his  hat 
Whenever  he  happened  to  meet  with  a cat. 

“Ifs  not  that  Tm  partial  to  cats,”  he'd  explain; 

” Their  music  to  me  is  unspeakable  pain. 

There's  nothing  that  causes  my  flesh  so  to  crawl 
As  when  they  perform  a G-flat  caterwaul. 

Yet  I cannot  help  feeling  — in  spite  of  their  din  — 

When  I hear  at  a concert  the  first  violin 
Interpret  some  exquisite  thing  of  my  own 
If  it  were  not  for  catgut  I'd  never  be  known. 

A nd  so,  when  I bow  as  you  see  to  a cat. 

It  isn't  to  her  that  I take  off  my  hat; 

But  to  fugues  and  sonatas  that  possibly  hide 
UncompQsed  in  her  — well  — in  her  tuneful  inside!  '' 

2*  “The  Bashful  Earthquake”;  Charles  Scribner’s  Sons;  New  York; 

209 


1900. 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

“ No  sounds  are  so  captivating  as  those  made  by  the  men  of 
sin  who  rub  the  hair  of  the  horse  to  the  bowels  of  the  cat,” 
writes  Artemus  Ward,  and  Addison  In  one  of  his  Spectator  es- 
says remarks  that  the  cat  has  contributed  more  to  harmony 
than  any  other  animal,  “ as  we  are  not  only  beholden  to  her 
for  her  wind  music  but  for  our  string  music  in  general.”  The 
truth  is,  however,  that  violin  strings  are  not  and  never  have 
been,  so  far  as  Is  known,  fashioned  of  catgut;  they  are  really 
made  of  lambs’  intestines.  Why  they  are  called  catgut  is 
another  etymological  mystery. 


210 


Chapter  Nine:  The  Cat  in  Art 

“ It  is  odd  that,  notwithstanding  the  extreme  beauty  of  cats, 
their  elegance  of  motion,  the  variety  and  intensity  of  their 
colour,  they  should  be  so  little  painted  by  considerable  artists,” 
writes  Philip  Gilbert  Hamertond  “ Almost  all  the  pictures 
of  cats  which  I remember  were  done  by  inferior  men,  often  by 
artists  of  a very  low  grade  indeed.  The  reason  for  this  is 
probably  that  although  the  cat  is  a refined  and  very  voluptuous 
animal,  it  is  so  wanting  in  the  nobler  " qualities  as  to  fail  in  win- 
ning the  serious  sympathies  of  noble  and  generous-hearted 
men.”  The  reason  for  this  is  probably  nothing  of  the  sort. 
To  begin  with  it  may  be  stated  categorically  that  artists  as  a 
class,  and  painters  in  particular,  are  seldom  “ noble  and 
generous-hearted  men.”  Then,  although  so  well-known  an 
animal  painter  as  Rosa  Bonheur  seldom  painted  the  cat,  pre- 
ferring to  dally  with  his  less  subtle  brother,  the  lion,  and  Sir 
Edwin  Landseer,  after  two  youthful  attempts,^  sought  easier 
subjects,  nevertheless  1 can  scarcely  recall  the  name  of  a single 
artist  of  note  who  has  not  at  one  time  or  other  made  an  effort 

“ Chapters  on  Animals,”  P.  52. 

2 “ 'To  bestow  such  epithets  as  ‘ generous  ’ and  ‘ noble  ’ on  a dog  for  pulling 
a drowning  man  out  of  the  water,  or  scratching  him  out  of  a snow-drift,  is 
fully  as  irrational  as  it  would  be  to  call  the  swallow  and  cuckoo  intrepid  ex- 
plorers of  the  dark  continent,  or  to  praise  the  hive-bees  of  the  working  caste 
for  their  chastity,  loyalty,  and  patriotism,  and  for  their  profound  knowledge  of 
mathematics  as  shown  in  their  works.”  W.  H.  Hudson : “ The  Great  Dog- 
Superstition  ” : “The  Book  of  a Naturalist”;  George  H.  Doran  Co.;  New 
York;  1919. 

3 Landseer  painted  The  Cat  Disturbed  in  1819  and  The  Cat’s  Paiu  in  1824. 
In  the  former  picture  puss  is  persecuted  and  her  nerves  are  upset  by  the 
intrusion  at  meal-time  of  a pair  of  ill-bred  terriers. 


21  I 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

to  draw  a cat,  and  almost  all  of  them  have  failed.  The 
simple  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  under  any  ordinary  circum- 
stances the  animal  is  too  difficult  to  paint.  The  artist,  indeed, 
who  would  succeed  at  feline  portraiture,  must  first  of  all  have 
a certain  understanding  and  sympathy  for  cats,  and  then  he 
must  devote  his  lifetime  to  their  study.  Landseer  decided  he 
could  not  give  so  much  time  to  one  form  and  so  he  set  himself 
more  facile  tasks. 

The  beauty  of  the  cat  is  very  deceptive,  for  under  the 
grace  of  the  furry  exterior  lie  concealed  steel-like  muscles. 
Now  the  artist  who  indicates  the  grace  and  softness  usually 
misses  the  strength  and  the  artist  who  seizes  the  strength 
usually  does  so  at  the  expense  of  other  qualities.  The  cat’s 
eye  alone,  an  eye  skilfully  blending  innocence  and  mystery, 
an  eye  which  changes  with  the  hours  of  the  day,  offers  in- 
superable difficulties.  “ Nothing  is  so  difficult,”  observes 
Champfleury,  ” as  to  paint  the  cat’s  face,  which  as  Moncrif 
justly  observes,  bears  a character  of  ‘ finesse  and  hilarity.’ 
The  lines  are  so  delicate,  the  eyes  so  strange,  the  movements 
subject  to  such  sudden  impulses,  that  one  should  be  feline  one- 
self to  attempt  to  portray  such  a subject.”  With  every  move- 
ment, with  every  thought,  the  cat  varies  in  expression,  contour, 
and  markings.  The  cat’s  character,  too,  must  be  taken  into 
consideration.  No  self-respecting  cat  has  any  leanings 
towards  a career  as  an  artist’s  model. 

“ She  is  willing,”  writes  Arthur  Tomson,  from  some  ex- 
perience, ” to  be  observed  at  times  when  the  performance 
under  scrutiny  is  entirely  of  her  own  direction.  But  let  a cat 
imagine  for  one  moment  that  she  is  under  some  sort  of  com- 
pulsion, and  very  speedily  she  will  let  you  know  who  is  master. 
If  one  wishes  her  to  lap  milk,  and  provides  her  with  the  means 
of  doing  so,  she  will  sit  up  and  wash  herself;  if  one  wishes  her 
to  wash  herself  she  will  chase  her  tail;  if  it  is  a sleeping  atti- 
tude that  one  is  studying  she  will  scamper  off.  No  sort  of 
training,  or  affection,  or  love  of  good  food  will  turn  the  cat 

212 


The  Cat  in  Art 

into  a perfect  assistant  to  any  artist.  Neither  will  any  sort 
of  compulsion.”  ^ 

But  the  greatest  obstacle  to  painting  the  cat  is  the  obstacle 
that  any  portrait  painter  must  be  prepared  to  meet.  The 
technique  of  painting  may  be  acquired;  one  may  learn  how  to 
paint  bodies  and  faces,  arms,  legs,  hands  and  ears,  characteris- 
tics, in  short,  but  how  few  portrait  painters  can  paint  character; 
how  few  can  go  beyond  externals.  It  Is  exactly  this  final 
touch  that  felinophiles  miss  In  pussy  pictures.  The  painter 
has  painted  a cat,  perhaps,  satisfactorily  enough,  but  whose 
cat?  One  of  the  most  celebrated  painters  of  cats,  Henriette 
Ronner,  is  a great  offender  in  this  respect.  All  of  Madame 
Ronner’s  cats  and  kittens  have  a tendency  to  look  precisely 
alike;  they  have  little  or  no  character. 

Contemporary  artists  were  often  inclined,  naturally  enough, 
to  paint  Theophile  Gautier  surrounded  by  his  feline  harem. 
He  sometimes  posed  in  Turkish  costume,  squatting  on  cushions 
and  overrun  with  cats.  He  admitted  that  there  was  little  ex- 
aggeration In  these  pictures  and  that  the  portraits  of  himself 
were  admirable,  but  it  was  hard  to  induce  him  to  praise  the  cat 
portraits.  He  missed  the  peculiar  and  characteristic  features: 
where  was  the  curve  of  Zuleika’s  snow-white  breast,  the  deep 
repose  of  Zulema’s  folded  paws,  or  the  eloquent  elevation  of 
Zobelde’s  jet-black  tail?  ‘‘  Painting  cats,”  he  used  to  say, 
“ is  a question  of  genius,  my  dear  boys.” 

Nevertheless  one  meets  with  the  cat  in  nearly  all  forms  of 
art  from  the  time  of  the  early  Egyptians  down  to  the  present 
day.  Curiously  enough  she  Is  not  a conspicuous  figure  In 
Roman  or  Greek  art  but  perhaps  her  absence  may  be  accounted 
for  on  the  same  ground  as  that  on  which  Mrs.  Emily  James 
Putnam  accounts  for  the  disappearance  of  the  Athenian  lady.® 

* For  these  and  other  reasons  the  cat  is  also  very  hard  to  photograph.  The 
best  photographs  are  instantaneous,  as  the  mere  breathing  of  a cat  will  blur 
the  fur  in  a time  exposure. 

® “ Anything  that  is  necessary  tends  to  become  an  evil,  and  the  wife’s  dynas- 


213 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

At  any  rate  there  are  comparatively  few  examples  of  art  deal- 
ing with  cats  In  the  Greek  and  Roman  collections.  The  two 
notable  exceptions  are  a Grecian  urn  of  the  best  period  and  a 
bas-relief  In  the  Capitollne  Museum  on  which  a young  woman 
Is  represented  who  tries  to  teach  her  cat  to  dance  while  she 
plays  the  lyre,  the  cat  naturally  preferring  to  snap  at  a duck.® 
Even  more  curious  Is  the  neglect  of  the  cat  In  ecclesiastical 
architecture.  The  demons  sculptured  In  the  mediaeval  ca- 
thedrals were  often  put  there  to  plant  terror  In  such  matters 
In  the  hearts  of  the  people,  but  although  cats  and  witches 
were  ever  so  chummy,  demon  cats  do  not  raise  their  hideous 
fangs  In  these  churches.  What  few  cats  do  appear  In  these 
carvings  seem  pleasant  enough  In  Intention. 

In  Tarragona  Cathedral,  Havelock  Ellis  notes  the  broadly 
humorous  sculptured  scene  In  the  cloisters  “ where  we  see  a 
solemn  procession  of  rats  joyfully  bearing  on  a bier  a de- 
murely supine  cat,  who,  a little  farther  on.  Is  again  seen  vigor- 
ously alive  and  seizing  one  of  her  unfortunate  bearers  while 
the  rest  are  put  to  flight  — the  most  Insignificant  sculpture 
In  the  cathedral,  but  perhaps  the  most  Interesting,  the  sacristan 
observes  smilingly.”  ^ In  the  first  scene  tabby  lies  on  a 
litter  borne  by  rats  and  mice  and  preceded  by  a train  of 
rodents  bearing  banners,  vessels  of  holy  water,  aspergills, 
crosiers,  and  censers.  The  executioner,  a rat  bearing  an  ax, 
marches  under  the  litter.  This  stately  pageant  Is  followed 
by  the  more  lively  scene  In  which  the  cat  springs  up  and 
catches  a rat  while  the  rest  disperse  In  all  directions.® 

tic  importance,  which  was  her  very  raison  d’etre,  operated  to  her  disadvan- 
tage as  a source  of  romantic  interest.”  Emily  James  Putnam:  “The  Lady”; 

Sturgis  and  Walton  Co.;  New  York;  1910;  P.  13. 

® But  there  is  proof  enough  that  classical  antiquity  loved  the  cat.  Among 
the  objects  unearthed  at  Pompeii  was  the  skeleton  of  a woman  bearing  in  her 
arms  the  skeleton  of  a cat,  whom  perhaps  she  gave  her  life  to  save. 

“ The  Soul  of  Spain,”  P.  290. 

reproduction  of  this  bas-relief  may  be  found  in  G.  E.  Street’s  “Gothic 
Architecture  in  Spain”;  Vol.  II,  P.  34. 


214 


The  Cat  in  Art 

In  Great  Malvern  Abbey  rats  may  be  seen  hanging  a cat 
in  the  presence  of  owls  who  are  looking  on  with  an  air  of 
legal  wisdom  and  judicial  gravity.  In  the  Cathedral  of 
Rouen  a cat  chases  a mouse  round  a pillar  in  the  nave.  In 
Albert  de  Brule’s  choir-stalls  In  San  Giorgio  Maggiore  in 
Venice,  representing  scenes  from  the  life  of  St.  Benedict, 
several  cats  are  Introduced.  On  one  stall  puss  is  quarrelling 
with  Benedict’s  raven;  on  another  she  Is  eating  a mouse  under 
the  couch  of  a sleepy  brother,  whom  the  saint  Is  endeavour- 
ing to  waken.  There  are  two  droll  cats  In  the  choir  of  the 
old  Minster  In  the  Isle  of  Thanet. 

Champfleury  found  a fifteenth  century  capital  of  a “ hideous 
animal  ” In  the  Museum  of  Troyes  and  a door-lintel  at  Rlcey- 
Haute-Rive  with  a bas-relief  of  a cat  in  company  with  hens, 
a fox,  and  a rat.  VIollet-le-Duc,  the  restorer  of  the  Chateau 
of  Pierrefonds  ornamented  the  dormer  windows  of  the  inner 
court  with  cats  in  different  postures.  Champfleury  has  chosen 
a mother  with  a kitten  between  her  teeth  for  reproduction. 

In  the  pictures  of  the  early  Italian,  Flemish,  and  Spanish 
masters  the  cat  frequently  appears,  seldom,  if  ever,  I must 
admit,  very  well  painted.  Nevertheless  she  Is  to  be  found  in 
Annunciations,  Holy  Families,  Last  Suppers,  and  Marriage 
Feasts  at  Cana  indiscriminately.  I have  no  doubt  that 
some  painter  has  included  her  with  the  elders  among  the  fur- 
tive observers  of  Susanna’s  plight.  Bassano  painted  and  re- 
painted the  departure  from  the  Ark  and  Invariably  In  these 
pictures  a big,  brindled,  self-satisfied  cat  leads  the  procession, 
for  it  has  pleased  the  artist  to  follow  the  Arabian  rather 
than  the  Biblical  legend.  Occasionally,  indeed,  puss  is  al- 
ready frightening  a rabbit  or  pouncing  on  a dove.  In  Tin- 
toretto’s Leda  a tabby  snaps  at  a duck. 

In  the  Vatican  Gallery  hangs  an  Annunciation  by  Baroccio 
In  which  a great  silver  cat  sleeps  on  the  Virgin’s  work  and  in 
another  painting  by  the  same  artist  to  be  seen  at  Budapest  a 
tranquil  cat  on  a cushion  regards  the  visiting  angel  through 

215 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

half-opened  sleepy  eyelids.  What  are  angels  to  her,  indeed? 
Another  cat  characteristically  indifferent  to  angelic  visitations 
may  be  observed  in  the  Annunciation  of  Federigo  Zucchero  on 
the  portico  of  the  hospital  of  Santa  Maria  Nuova  at 
Florence  and  the  cat  also  appears  in  two  frescos  by  Puccio  in 
the  choir  of  the  cathedral  at  Orvieto.  In  the  one  Saint  Ann’s 
great  white  cat  arches  her  back,  lifts  her  tail,  and  drives  a 
dog  from  the  room;  in  the  second,  while  others  are  occupied 
looking  at  the  newly  born  Virgin  she  stands  on  her  hind  legs 
and  helps  herself  to  some  food  on  a little  table.  In  Baroccio’s 
famous  altar-piece.  La  Madonna  del  Gatto  in  the  National 
Gallery  in  London,  the  cat,  of  course,  is  the  centre  of  interest. 
The  infant  St.  John  holds  a struggling  bird  high  over  his  head 
and  the  cat  rises  towards  it.  In  Ghirlandajo’s  celebrated 
fresco  of  The  Last  Supper  in  the  refectory  of  the  Monastery 
of  San  Marco  in  Florence  a most  intelligent  cat  scowls  dis- 
approvingly at  Judas.  Benvenuto  Cellini,  too,  places  a cat 
at  the  feet  of  Judas  in  one  of  his  bas-reliefs.  Is  it  possible 
that  this  juxtaposition  may  be  regarded  as  uncomplimentary 
to  the  animal?  The  cat  in  Veronese’s  The  Marriage  at  Cana 
is  not  the  most  easily  remembered  detail  of  this  large  canvas. 
Many  of  Veronese’s  pictures  contain  cats  but  so  carelessly 
painted  that  they  might  be  taken  for  weasels  or  lap-dogs. 
Benozzo  Gozzoli  painted  the  cat  in  the  scene  of  the  Ark  on 
the  walls  of  the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa  and  a black  cat  with 
amber  eyes  occupies  herself  watching  the  maids  washing  the 
new-born  Virgin  in  the  Oratorio  of  San  Bernardino  at  Siena. 

“ The  picture  which  of  all  others,  however,  best  illustrates 
the  temper  of  the  cat  as  the  Italians  knew  her  two  hundred 
years  ago,  and  as  we  know  her  today,  was  painted  by  Luca 
Giordano,  and  hangs  in  the  Imperial  Gallery  of  Vienna,” 
Agnes  Repplier  observes  with  some  humour.  ‘‘  It  is  another 
presentation  of  that  ever  familiar  theme,  the  birth  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin.  Saint  Ann  sits  upright  on  her  bed.  Saint 
Joachim  enters  the  door.  The  spacious  room  is  full  of  attend- 

216 


The  Cat  in  Art 

ants,  engaged  in  waiting  on  their  mistress,  in  airing  the 
baby  linen,  in  washing  and  admiring  the  infant.  Everybody 
is  busy  and  excited.  Everybody  save  Saint  Ann  is  standing, 
or  kneeling  on  the  floor.  There  is,  in  fact,  but  one  chair  in 
the  room.  On  that  chair  is  a cushion,  and  on  that  cushion 
sleeps,  serene  and  undisturbed,  a cat.” 

Many  Flemish  artists  painted  cats.  In  Hieronymus  Bosch’s 
The  Birth  of  Eve  a fierce  puss  is  devouring  an  innocent  tad- 
pole and  in  van  Tulden’s  Orpheus  Taming  the  Beasts,  while 
the  other  animals  seem  to  be  lulled  pleasantly  by  the  music, 
the  cat  is  on  the  point  of  attacking  a lion.  These  pictures 
are  in  the  Prado  Museum  at  Madrid.  In  the  genre  pictures 
of  the  Dutch  school  cats  naturally  play  their  decorative  part, 
basking  by  the  great  stoves,  or  frisking  with  kittens,  or  steal- 
ing meat.  Jan  Steen,  Jordaens,  Jan  Fyt,  Willem  van  Mieris 
and  Rembrandt  all  occasionally  included  cats  in  their  designs. 
In  Munich  there  is  an  Annunciation  by  Hendrick  met  de  Bles 
in  which  the  Blessed  Virgin’s  cat,  a handsome  white  beast, 
sleeps  by  her  mistress’s  side. 

Fragonard  painted  a cat  or  two.  In  Jan  Breughel’s  Para- 
dise Lost  in  the  Louvre  the  cat  sleeps  contentedly  while  our 
parents  are  being  driven  forth.  This  is  perfectly  catlike; 
it  also  serves  to  remind  us  that  God  did  not  drive  cats  out  of 
the  Garden.  In  Franz  Floris’s  Garden  of  Eden  puss  lies 
stretched  between  the  feet  of  Adam  and  Eve.  The  cat  sleeps 
again  beneath  the  elevated  stove  in  Lebrun’s  unsophisticated 
Sleep  of  the  Infant  Jesus  in  the  Louvre.  Watteau  painted  a 
delicious  Chat  vialade,  rolled  up  like  a baby  in  the  arms  of  his 
little  mistress,  who  is  weeping.  An  Italian  comedy  doctor, 
with  skull-cap  and  eye-glasses,  attends  the  Invalid  with  a 
majestic  air,  while  the  cat  himself  makes  a face  like  a spoiled 
child  at  the  smell  of  the  medicine.  There  is  a puss  in 
Velasquez’s  Las  Hilanderas.  Gainsborough’s  Child  with  a 
Cat  In  the  Metropolitan  Museum  In  New  York  is  a familiar 
picture  but  the  child  Is  painted  with  m.ore  care  than  the  cat. 

217 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

One  could  go  on  and  on  listlessly  with  this  dull  catalogue. 
These  cats  have  no  great  interest  but  they  serve  to  indicate 
that  puss  roamed  home  and  studio  with  as  much  freedom  three 
centuries  ago  as  she  does  today.  The  old  Italian  and  Dutch 
artists  introduced  grimalkins  into  their  pictures  because  they 
saw  them  about  the  place,  but  they  only  introduced  them  as 
decoration  or  ornament,  like  vine-leaf  or  vase,  chair  or  table, 
although  Hamel  ® suggests  that  occasionally  they  may  have 
wished  to  indicate  the  animal  spirit  that  dwells  in  human 
beings:  “Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  painted  two  portraits  of 

young  girls,  one  holding  a cage  with  a mouse  in  it,  the  other 
a kitten.  The  former  is  called  Muscupula  and  the  latter 
Felina,  and  it  may  be  surmised  that  he  intended  to  show  in 
their  features  the  imitative  sympathy  young  children  have 
with  young  animals.”  This  tendency  may  be  studied  in  more 
modern  painting.  Boris  Anisfeld  has  painted  his  daughter, 
Morelia  Borisovna,  with  her  hand  on  the  head  of  a black  and 
white  puss.  Both  girl  and  cat  have  a band  of  black  hair  over 
their  eyes  and  as  the  expression  in  each  case  is  nearly  identi- 
cal the  artistic  intention  of  the  painter  is  obvious.  A red- 
haired  lady  in  a picture  which  hangs  in  a corridor  of  the  Hotel 
Astor  carries  her  counterpart,  a red  and  white  pussy,  sound 
asleep  in  her  lap.  Renoir,  too,  was  conscious  of  the  relation- 
ship between  animals  and  people.  In  Le  garcon  an  chat, 
(1868)  a superb  example  of  languid  grace,  beauty,  and  in- 
dolence, a boy  stands  in  a luxurious  attitude  with  his  arm  drawn 
round  a luxurious  cat.  The  faces  are  brought  close  together 
and  there  is  a decided  resemblance  between  the  two.  In  La 
femme  au  chat  (1878—9)  a country  girl  sleeps  with  a cat 
asleep  in  her  lap.  These  cats,  it  may  be  added,  are  extremely 
well  painted.  It  was  not  Renoir’s  custom  to  approach  any 
subject  in  a half-hearted  way. 

There  have  been,  however,  painters  who  devoted  themselves 
to  the  cat,  who  painted  cats  with  accessories,  instead  of  cats  as 

® “ Human  Animals,”  P.  42. 


218 


BORIS  ANISFELD’S  PORTRAIT  OF  HIS  DAUGHTER,  MORELLA  BORISOVNA, 

AND  HER  CAT 


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The  Cat  in  Art 

accessories.  There  was,  for  example,  Gottfried  Mind,  to 
whom  Madame  Lebrun  once  gave  the  sobriquet  of  the 
“ Raphael  of  Cats,”  a name  by  which  he  continues  to  be  known 
to  this  day,  although  his  work  bears  as  little  relation  to 
Raphael’s  as  the  Belgian  Shakespeare’s  bears  to  that  of  the 
author  of  Timon  of  Athens.  Of  Hungarian  origin  Mind 
was  born  at  Berne  in  1768  ; he  died  in  1814.  He  consecrated 
his  life  to  painting  bears  and  cats,  mostly  cats,  animals  to 
which  he  was  devoted.  When  in  1809  an  epidemic  of  mad- 
ness broke  out  among  the  cats  of  Berne  and  a general  massacre 
followed  Mind  was  inconsolable  although  he  saved  his  own 
Minette.  The  painter  and  his  cats  were  inseparable  and  his 
Minette  was  always  by  his  side.  Sometimes  she  would  sit 
upon  his  knees  while  kittens  perched  on  his  shoulders  and 
rather  than  disturb  his  friends  he  would  remain  in  one  at- 
titude for  hours.  To  his  cats  he  was  unfailingly  polite  and 
affable  but  he  treated  men  with  the  same  scant  courtesy  that 
Jeremy  Bentham  allotted  to  humans. 

I have  not  seen  any  of  Mind’s  original  drawings;  indeed  I 
have  seen  but  few  reproductions  of  his  work.  These  are  in- 
teresting and  indicate  a deep  talent  for  cat  painting.  Dep- 
ping  writes  of  him  (“  Biographie  Universelle  ”)  ; “ His  pic- 

tures were,  one  might  almost  say,  cat-portraits;  he  gave  every 
shade  of  expression  to  their  soft  and  cunning  faces;  he  lent 
infinite  variety  to  the  graceful  attitude  of  kittens  playing  with 
their  mother;  he  depicted  the  silky  coat  of  the  cat  perfectly; 
in  short  the  cats  painted  by  Mind  seemed  to  be  alive.”  This 
praise  of  Mind’s  work  may  be  a little  excessive,  but  his  fame 
as  one  of  the  earliest  of  the  cat  painters  is  still  considerable. 

Delacroix  painted  cats  which  resembled  tigers  more  than 

Once  when  a similar  epidemic  broke  out  among  her  cats  and  Mabel  Dodge 
found  it  necessary  to  put  several  of  them  out  of  their  misery,  especially  to 
protect  the  few  who  had  not  succumbed  to  the  contagion,  a guest  walked  the 
streets  of  Florence  saying  to  whomever  would  listen,  “ Murder  has  been  com- 
mitted at  the  villa  Curonia!” 


219 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

household  pets  and  his  pupil,  Louis  Eugene  Lambert,  was 
a celebrated  cat  painter.  His  Family  of  Cats  did  hang  in  the 
Luxembourg  Gallery  in  Paris;  perhaps  it  does  still.  On  this 
rather  conventional  canvas  the  mother  sits  on  the  table  and 
superintends  the  antics  of  her  mischievous  kittens. 

Of  Henriette  Ronner,  whom  writers  on  two  continents  and 
an  island  or  two  united  to  honour  on  her  seventieth  birthday, 
1 cannot  speak  with  any  enthusiasm.  She  painted  cats  all 
her  life  and  several  albums  devoted  to  her  pictures  of  pussies 
have  been  published.  I have  one  or  two  of  these  myself. 
These  pictures  are  sentimental;  they  are  “story  pictures,” 
but  that  is  not  their  worst  fault.  They  are  carelessly  ob- 
served, superficial.  In  such  a canvas  as  her  Banjo  Madame 
Ronner  can  be  very  ingratiating,  but  in  such  a picture  she  has 
said  all  that  she  ever  says.  It  is  apparent  at  once  that  this 
lady,  who  painted  cats  for  several  decades,  never  learned 
more  about  them  than  the  most  casual  observer  would  know 
at  first  glance.  She  makes  no  attempt  at  differentiation;  one 
of  her  cats  looks  much  like  any  other.  They  are  usually 
represented  in  families,  a fond  mother  looking  on  while  the 
babies  play  in  and  out  of  work-baskets,  on  chess-boards,  in 
empty  bird-cages  or  clocks.  The  sort  of  thing  for  which,  no 
doubt,  you  could  depend  upon  an  immediate  purchaser,  who 
would  sign  a cheque  with  an  added  encomium,  “ My,  aren’t 
they  sweet!”  Well,  of  course,  they  are.  Madame  Ronner 
caught  a certain  playful  streak  in  kittens  although  some  of  her 
kittens  are  almost  as  wooden  as  Henry  IV  doors;  she  caught 
texture  in  fur;  her  arrangements  are  sometimes  happy;  but 
she  never,  it  seems  to  me,  captured  the  soul  of  the  cat,  be- 
cause au  fond,  Madame  Ronner  was  a Belgian  hourgeoise  and 
It  takes  an  aristocrat  with  a Persian  soul  to  understand  the 
soul  of  a cat. 

11  H is  work  may  be  studied  in  “ Les  Chiens  et  les  Chats  d’Eiig^ne  Lambert,” 
by  G.  de  Cherville;  Paris;  1888.  This  book  is  illustrated  with  six  etchings 
(all  of  cats)  and  one  hundred  and  forty-five  drawings  of  cats  and  dogs. 


220 


BANJO 

Fyom  the  painting  by  Henriette  Ronner 


1 , 

'V 


.i 

i 


The  Cat  in  Art 

Champfleury  shoots  most  of  his  enthusiastic  sky-rockets  to 
celebrate  an  obscure  English  painter  named  Burbank  and 
claims  to  have  discovered  him,  but  Mrs.  Hoey  in  her  transla- 
tion of  “ Les  Chats  ” exposes  the  French  writer  in  the  follow- 
ing footnote : “ M.  Champfleury  has  drawn  upon  his  imagina- 

tion for  these  facts.  In  Graves’  Dictionary  of  Artists,  Bur- 
bank is  described  as  an  animal  painter  who  exhibited  twenty- 
seven  pictures  in  London  between  the  years  1825—1872,  twelve 
of  them  in  the  Royal  Academy.”  Champfleury  says,  ” A few 
years  ago  I saw  a wonderful  water-colour  drawing,  represent- 
ing a cat’s  head,  life-size,  in  the  studio  of  Dantan,  the  sculptor. 
In  this  picture  there  were  melted  and  mingled  certain  qualities 
which  make  a Holbein,  or  a plodding  clockmaker,  a Denner, 
or  a forger  of  bank  notes.  It  would  be  useless  to  attempt 
to  describe  the  eyes  of  the  animal  as  they  looked  into  the  face 
of  the  spectator.  The  pen  becomes  useless  before  the  marvel- 
lous tints  of  those  eyes.  And  yet  here  was  a painter  whose 
brush  was  capable  of  rendering  strange  looks.  . . . This 
painting  is  the  result  of  the  prolonged  attention  of  an  observer 
whose  fault  is  that  of  coldness.  Excessive  application  and 
exactness  have  the  counter  quality  of  lessening  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  artist.  Cold  and  correct,  passionate  and  incorrect;  so 
few  men  are  quite  perfect!  ...  So  great  is  the  importance 
that  I attribute  to  Burbank  that  I venture  to  assert,  if  the  cat 
painted  by  this  artist  were  placed  among  the  ancient  draw- 
ings in  the  Louvre,  not  only  would  it  hold  an  honourable  place 
there,  but  it  would  attract  the  attention  of  all  who  are  ca- 
pable of  appreciating  the  interpretation  of  truth.”  To  some, 
who  have  seen  only  such  reproductions  of  Burbank’s  work  as 
Champfleury  offers,  this  description  may  seem  a trifle  exag- 
gerated; to  others,  I dare  say,  it  will  not. 

Edouard  Manet  painted  cats  several  times.  There  is,  for 
instance,  the  etching  of  the  cat  among  flowers,  which  he  made 
for  the  edition  de  luxe  of  Champfleury’s  volume  which  is  not, 
to  be  sure,  very  convincing  evidence  of  his  skill  in  this  direction. 

221 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

But  the  poster  he  painted  for  this  book,  the  celebrated  Ren- 
dez-voiis  des  Chats,  in  which  a superb  black  carl-cat  is  paying 
attention  to  a white  queen  among  the  chimney  tops,  while  their 
tails  are  flaunted  in  the  face  of  the  rising  moon,  is  amazing. 
On  the  bed  of  the  nude  Olympia  a black  cat  arches  his  back. 
It  was  probably  the  artist’s  somewhat  ribald  intention  to  sug- 
gest the  familiar  of  a modern  sorceress.  This  cat,  soon 
known  as  “ the  cat  of  Monsieur  Manet,”  for  a time  enjoyed 
a siicch  de  scandale.  Now  that  the  picture  has  reached  the 
Louvre  it  has  become  old  hat  and  neither  the  lady  nor  her 
pussy  are  much  talked  about  any  more. 

Aubrey  Beardsley  occasionally  painted  cats,  and  as  well 
may  be  imagined  he  painted  them  black.  Wicked  demon  cats 
are  the  cats  of  Aubrey  Beardsley.  In  Aymer  Vallance’s 
iconography  of  Beardsley’s  work  he  notes  a design  for  Mein- 
hold’s  Romance,  “ Sidonia  the  Sorceress  ” with  the  demon-cat, 
Chim.  William  Morris  criticized  this  drawing  unfavourably 
and  it  is  almost  certain  that  Beardsley  destroyed  it.  Among 
his  grotesques  for  “ Bon  Mots  ” is  one  of  a woman  with  a 
cat,  an  eldritch  beast  with  spread  claws  and  a horrid  face. 
Vallance  mentions  a Pierrot  with  a black  cat  which  I have  not 
seen.  For  the  large  paper  edition  of  Poe’s  “ Tales  of  Mystery 
and  Wonder”  (Stone  and  Kimball;  Chicago;  1895)  Beard- 
sley made  four  drawings,  of  which  the  one  for  The  Black  Cat 
Is  perhaps  the  most  striking. 

I do  not  believe  I have  ever  found  cats  in  art  which  so 
completely  satisfied  me  as  the  cats  of  Grandville.  Jean- 
Ignace-Isadore  Gerard,  who  called  himself  Grandville,  was 
born  at  Nancy,  September  15,  1803,  and  he  died  March  17, 
1847.  tde  was  an  illustrator  and  he  designed  lovely  and 
amusing  pictures  for  the  works  of  Beranger,  the  Fables  of 
Florian,  Lavalette,  and  La  Fontaine,  “ Gulliver’s  Travels  ” 
and  ” Robinson  Crusoe.”  Even  in  these  cats  may  be  found 
but  for  the  finest  examples  of  his  drawings  of  felines  you  must 
turn  to  “ Les  Metamorphoses  du  Jour,”  “ Les  Animaux  Peints 

222 


The  Cat  in  Art 

Par  Euxmemes,”  “ Album  des  Betes,”  “ Cents  Proverbes,” 
and  especially,  “ La  Vie  Privee  et  Publique  des  Animaux.” 
When  I first  opened  this  latter  book,  indeed,  I simply  chortled 
for  joy  as  I experienced  an  enthusiasm  which  I had  never 
before  felt  for  the  cats  of  any  artist.  The  sickly  sentiment  of 
Madame  Ronner,  the  commonplaces  of  Burbank,  even  the 
drawings  of  Mind  had  left  me  more  or  less  as  they  found  me, 
but  the  drawings  of  Grandville  gave  me  the  requisite  thrill. 

When  I stumbled  upon  Grandville’s  drawings,  almost  by 
accident,  for  they  are  not  reproduced  in  any  of  the  cat  books 
I have  seen  and  the  volumes  in  which  they  originally  appeared 
are  now  very  rare,  I almost  shrieked  for  joy.  Here  are  cats ! 
I shouted:  Here,  indeed,  are  cats!  For  Grandville  not  only 

solved  the  conflicting  problems  of  grace  and  strength,  he  also 
solved  the  far  more  difficult  problems  of  individuality  and  ex- 
pression.^- You,  who  have  a favourite  grimalkin  or  matou  or 
tabby  queen,  you  know  that  your  cat  looks  different  from  the 
cat  in  the  next  block.  His  gestures  are  different;  his  eyes  are 
different.  But  cat  painters,  as  a whole,  have  not  felt  this 
difference.  That  is  why,  although  they  have  painted  many 
cats,  few  cat  pictures  remain  in  the  memory.  You  remember 
the  details  of  a set  of  Goya  prints  because,  while  each  is  in- 
fused with  the  strong  personality  of  the  artist,  each  suggests 
something  new,  just  as  you  forget  a set  of  Charles  Dana  Gib- 
son prints  because  every  one  suggests  the  same  thing  as  its 
neighbour,  which  is  nothing  at  all.  In  the  latter  nineties  a 
popular  song  proclaimed  that  All  coons  look  alike  to  me. 
A paraphrase  of  this  idea  seems  to  have  been  the  princi- 
pal inspiration  of  cat  painters,  who  apparently  have  said  to 
themselves:  “We  must  learn  how  to  paint  fur,  how  to 

paint  strength,  how  to  paint  grace,  how  to  paint  eyes,  etc.,” 
but  they  have  seldom  perceived  that  they  must  also  learn  how 
to  paint  character.  Indeed  it  may  never  have  occurred  to 

Grandville  asserted  that  he  had  observed  seventy-five  different  expressions 
in  cats. 


223 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Madame  Ronner  to  consider  whether  or  not  cats  have  char- 
acter. If  it  did  occur  to  her  she  never  made  the  slightest 
attempt  to  put  this  idea  into  her  pictures. 

Now  Grandville  never,  or  hardly  ever,  except  in  the  homely 
illustrations  for  “ Robinson  Crusoe,”  or  for  Beranger’s  poems, 
draws  a cat  in  an  ordinary  situation.  He  surrounds  his  cats 
with  fantastic  touches,  dresses  them  in  clothes,  asks  them  to 
use  furniture,  but  so  sure  is  his  touch,  so  correct  his  feeling, 
that  for  days  after  I had  seen  his  cats  it  did  not  seem  right 
to  me  that  Feathers  should  not  march  on  her  hind  paws  and 
wear  gowns.  These  gowns,  these  attitudes,  these  gestures, 
seemingly  human  and  uncatlike,  all  fall  into  place  and  become 
indispensable  attributes  of  cat  character.  Recall  the  little 
minx  in  an  ermine  robe  reclining  on  a couch.  No  one  ever  saw 
a real  cat  in  a gown  from  the  Rue  de  la  Paix;  no  one  ever  saw 
a real  cat  lying  in  the  attitude  affected  by  this  little  lady,  very 
nearly  the  same  as  that  in  which  Caro-Delvaille  painted  Mad- 
ame Simone,  and  yet  any  one  would  recognize  this  puss  should 
she  walk  through  the  doorway  to  confront  the  picture,  so 
strongly  does  the  drawing  suggest  character.  So,  too,  you 
would  know  the  Chinese  cat,  or  the  demure  and  frightened 
female  on  the  roof,  vacillating  between  the  white  agathodemon 
and  the  black  kakodemon  cats  while  the  chimney  pots  grin  dis- 
approval. In  ” Cent  Proverbes  ” to  illustrate  A bon  chat, 
bon  rat,  Grandville  has  drawn  an  adorable  matou  in  a top 
coat  with  a portmonaie  projecting  from  his  pocket,  high  hat 
held  behind  his  back,  and  bouquet,  bowing  to  a rat  dressed  as 
a lady  of  the  ballet.  The  scene  is  the  stage  of  the  Opera. 
The  picture  of  the  kittens  playing  with  a mouse-doll  while 
mama  knits  under  a stuffed  rat  in  a glass  case  is  also  very 
amusing.  So  is  the  scene  from  Balzac’s  story  in  which 
Beauty  meets  her  Bohemian  lover  on  the  rooftop  and  almost 
yields  to  his  impetuous  importunities.  Indeed,  the  saucy  ex- 

13  Peines  de  Coeur  d’une  Chatte  Anglaise  ” in  “ Vie  Privee  et  Publique  des 
Animaux.” 


224 


THE  ENTRANCE  OF  THE  RESPECTABLE  PUFF 

From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publique  des  animaux 


■A: 


' I 


\ 


( 


The  Cat  in  Art 

pression  of  the  costaud,  Brisquet,  is  fascinatingly  caught. 
But  my  eternal  favourite  is  the  engraving  illustrating  the  en- 
trance of  the  respectable  Puff  in  the  same  story,  Puff  whose 
manners  were  those  of  a cat  who  had  seen  the  court  and  the 
world;  he  had  two  valets  in  his  service;  he  ate  from  Chinese 
porcelain;  he  only  drank  black  tea;  he  went  to  drive  in  Hyde 
Park;  he  was  about  to  enter  parliament;  Puff,  “milord 
matoii!  ” This  resplendent  orange  and  black  Angora  is  in- 
troduced to  little  white  Beauty  as  a possible  mate.  He  comes 
into  the  hall,  walking,  of  course,  on  his  hind  paws;  he  wears 
a gorgeous  overcoat  and  he  holds  a silk  hat,  while  two 
monkey  flunkeys  carry  his  tail.  His  eyes  bulge  with  naive 
vanity  and  poor  Beauty,  overcome  by  this  splendour,  curtseys 
before  him.  This  to  me  is  the  acme,  the  alpha  and  omega, 
the  A and  Z,  the  Carpaccio  and  Shakespeare,  the  Gluck  and 
Stravinsky,  the  Napoleon  and  Mohammed  of  all  cat  pictures. 
Grandville  has  not  only  created  one  cat  character  herein,  he 
has  created  two.  If  you  have  ever  seen  a superb  Persian 
matou  enter  a room  in  which  he  was  expected  to  perform  the 
ceremony  described  in  Chapter  XXII  of  James  Branch  Ca- 
bell’s “ Jurgen  ” you  will  be  in  a better  position  to  understand 
and  appreciate  this  very  extraordinary  drawing. 

Louis  Wain’s  rakish  London  cats  are  amusing;  he  is  not 
so  keen  an  observer  as  Grandville ; nor  yet  so  good  a draughts- 
man, and  yet  there  is  much  to  admire  in  these  ribald  pussies 
who  smoke  cigars  and  ride  motorcycles.  There  is  really  a 
good  deal  of  character  in  these  drawings.  Wain  is  especially 
successful  at  depicting  ram-cats.  In  most  of  his  pictures  the 
eyes  are  emphasized  to  such  an  extent  that  they  seem  almost 
to  epitomize  the  cat,  but  I think  his  feeling  in  this  matter  has 
been  correct;  the  eyes  are  undoubtedly  the  most  important 
single  feature  of  the  cat.  Wain  once  remarked  that  draw- 
ing felines  was  as  difficult  as  drawing  circles  freehand. 

Wain’s  Annual”  and  elsewhere;  Wain  has  illustrated  a number  of  books 
and  made  innumerable  postcards  and  calendars. 

225 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

There  should  be  a word  for  Lady  Chance’s  exceedingly 
delightful  wash  drawings  of  cats.  Lady  Chance  has  stepped 
in  upon  puss  in  many  of  the  interesting  moments  of  her  life, 
but  perhaps  her  supreme  achievement  is  her  drawing  of  the 
cat  with  the  closed  eyes.  These  little  sketches  are  full  of 
mystery  and  charm.  Arthur  Tomson’s  drawings  are  more 
conventional  and  certainly  not  as  interesting.  There  is  a 
fascinating  verisimilitude  about  Harrison  Weir’s  drawings. 
His  cats,  mostly  in  commonplace  attitudes,  have  body.  They 
are  honest  and  they  are  not  sentimental.  On  the  other  hand 
they  are  entirely  bereft  of  mystery.  Mrs.  Janvier’s  pic- 
tures are  entertaining.  Like  Grandville  and  Louis  Wain  she 
has  half  humanized  her  cats,  dressed  them  up  and  asked  them 
to  walk  upright.  The  two  knights  who  struggle  for  the 
Princess  Catina’s  love  in  the  picture  called  Taunting  Mews 
are  most  aggressive,  splendid  beasties,  and  in  Crawley  Mezvs 
she  has  drawn  some  curious  and  strange  animals. 

Elisabeth  F.  Bonsall  has  illustrated  several  American  cat 
books.  In  “ The  Book  of  the  Cat  ” she  has  an  opportunity 
in  full-page  coloured  illustrations  to  exhibit  the  range  of  her 
talent.  Her  cats  are  more  often  thoughtful  and  dignified 
than  playful.  They  gaze  into  the  fire  or  at  the  observer  with 
half-shut  eyes,  they  sleep  sprawled  across  open  books.  But  in 
pieces  of  rapid  action  such  as  the  kitten  playing  with  the  leaves 
or  the  toms  on  the  roof  she  is  less  successful. 

Of  the  moderns  Steinlen  is  probably  the  greatest  of  the  cat 
artists.  His  book  “ Des  Chats”  dessins  sans  paroles”) 
is  a joy.  Steinlen  made  many  posters  of  cats  (they  serve 
decorative  purposes  as  well  or  better  than  Cheret’s  dashing 

Mrs.  W.  Chance:  “A  Book  of  Cats.” 

Graham  R.  Tomson:  “Concerning  Cats.” 

Harrison  Weir:  “Our  Cats,  and  All  About  Them.” 

Catherine  A.  Janvier:  “London  Mews.” 

19  “ The  Book  of  the  Cat,”  with  facsimiles  of  drawing  in  colour  by  Elisabeth 
F.  Bonsall  and  with  stories  and  verses  by  Mabel  Humphreys;  F.  A.  Stokes 
Co.;  1903. 


226 


COVER  DESIGN  FOR  STEINLEN’S  DES  CHATS 


Til 


The  Cat  in  Art 

barmaids)  and  the  cover  for  this  book  is  a revision  in  colour 
of  a celebrated  poster,  Lait  pur  sterilise  ....  A grey  tabby 
claws  the  skirts  of  a child  bearing  a bowl  of  milk;  a black  cat 
rubs  calinely  against  her  leg,  while  a tortoise-shell,  a black 
Persian,  and  a brown  tabby  yowl  pleasantly  and  expectantly. 
An  orange  tabby,  a little  aloof,  arches  his  back  and  says, 
“Please!”  Other  cats  are  seen  rapidly  approaching. 

Steinlen  is  the  only  painter,  past  or  present,  who  has  been 
successful  in  drawing  cats  in  action  and  this  volume  bears 
testimony  to  his  ability  in  this  direction.  The  sheets  of  this 
large  folio  are  filled  with  drawings  in  black  and  white.  They 
are  like  the  films  of  a cinema  reel;  each  picture  gives  us  a little 
more  knowledge  of  movement.  Observe,  for  instance,  the 
page  entitled.  Poor  Little  Mouse!  on  which  three  Siamese  cats 
shake  a rodent  out  of  a trap  and  capture  it.  Every  detail 
of  this  incident  is  set  down  with  rare  fidelity  to  both  movement 
and  the  nature  of  the  animal.  The  horrible  end  of  a goldfish 
teaches  us  that  all  cats  who  attempt  indoor  fishing  do  not 
meet  the  tragic  death  of  Gray’s  celebrated  Selima.  The  cat 
with  the  ball  of  yarn  is  a masterpiece  of  carefully  observed 
action  and  the  kitten  with  the  burning  cigar  is  equally  divert- 
ing. The  page  described  as  Miaiilenients  is  a delightful  mis- 
cellany of  mothers  carrying  their  babies,  or  suckling  them, 
and  toms  fighting.  There  are  eleven  heads  on  this  page,  care- 
ful cat  portraits,  each  differentiated  as  to  character  and  tem- 
perament. On  the  page  called  Paresse,  Steinlen  has  permitted 
himself  to  draw  cats  in  repose,  yawning,  stretching  cats,  cats 
arching  their  backs,  cats  sleeping  in  a dozen  or  more  attitudes. 
All  these  are  done  very  surely  in  a few  convincing  strokes. 
The  character  of  the  cats  is  well  differentiated  in  all  of  these 
vibrant  pages.  The  dignified  black  Persian  who  is  the  victim 

20  Renouard  comes  near  to  doing  so.  There  are  several  pages  devoted  to 
cats  in  his  volume  entitled  “ Croquis  d’Animaux.”  I feel  sure  that  both  Ben- 
jamin Rabier  and  Caran  d’Ache  must  have  drawn  cats,  but  I do  not  seem  to 
be  able  to  find  any  among  such  drawings  of  theirs  as  I have  at  hand. 


227 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

of  a baby  with  a wooden  horse  is  a very  different  animal  from 
the  black  cat  who  steals  the  butter  from  the  baby’s  bread. 

Oliver  Herford’s  specialty  is  kittens  for  whom,  undoubtedly, 
he  has  a peculiar  feeling.  These  kittens  are  suffused  with  more 
life  than  any  Henriette  Ronner  ever  painted.  They  are 
roguish,  innocent,  rakish,  wistful,  but  always  adorable  balls  of 
fur,  for  it  is  ever  his  fancy  to  paint  babies  of  the  Persian  tribe. 
Mr.  Herford’s  kittens  are  scattered  through  most  of  his 
volumes  of  poetry  and  through  many  magazines  as  well,  but 
the  perusal  of  two  books,  “ The  Rubaiyat  of  a Persian  Kit- 
ten ” and  “ A Kitten’s  Garden  of  Verses  ” will  give  you  an 
excellent  idea  of  his  work.  Observe,  for  instance,  the  smug, 
short-legged,  snub-nosed  kitten  who  sits  opposite  the  lines 
called  “ Happy  Thought  ” : 

The  world  is  so  full  of  a number  of  mice 
I’m  sure  that  we  all  should  be  happy  and  nice. 

This  surely  is  Vachel  Lindsay’s  good  kitten  who  wore  his 
ribbon  prettily  and  washed  behind  his  ears.  The  picture 
called  Foreign  Kittens^  too,  is  very  attractive  to  me.  A Per- 
sian kitten  in  characteristic  attitude  watches  through  a win- 
dow some  common  cats  on  the  back  fence.  This  puss  is  ob- 
served from  the  back  and  she  has  been  well  observed.  . The 
Whole  Duty  of  Kittens  is  quite  as  pleasing.  More  celebrated, 
more  amusing,  and  perhaps  better  drawn  are  the  illustra- 
tions for  “ The  Rubaiyat.”  How  perfect  is  the  branch  of 
pussy-willows,  for  example.  How  much  at  times  kittens  re- 
semble pussy-willows  and  caterpillars! 

It  was  with  Oliver  Herford  that  Fania  Marinoff  and  I met 
a particularly  kitten-like  caterpillar.  One  fine  day  in  summer 
we  all  stopped  together  to  look  at  some  fuzzy  red  caterpil- 
lars that  promenaded  on  the  branches  of  the  shrubs  inside  the 
railing  of  Gramercy  Park.  One  lusty  little  fellow,  deter- 

21  Oliver  Herford’s  monogram  is  in  the  form  of  a cat.  He  calls  it  his 
“ Cat-of-Arms.” 


228 


The  Cat  in  ^Art 

mined  no  doubt  to  see  the  world,  tumbled  out  on  the  sidewalk, 
and  with  the  most  terrific  speed  m,ade  for  the  kerb.  Fania,  de- 
termining to  save  his  life,  picked  him  up  and  put  him  gently 
back  on  the  earth  inside  the  fence.  He  immediately  started 
out  again  and  in  a short  time  was  back  at  the  kerb.  Now  I 
picked  him  up  and  tossed  him  a yard  or  so  on  the  grass  back 
of  the  grating.  He  returned  with  an  air  of  abandoned  per- 
sistence which  gave  one  the  idea  that  he  knew  what  he  wanted 
to  do.  Mr.  Herford  next  assumed  the  role  of  the  god  in 
the  car  and  tossed  him  still  farther  back.  Will  you  believe 
it  that  this  obstinate  kitten-like,  fuzzy,  red,  baby  caterpillar 
came  back  a third  time  and  before  our  astonished  gaze  walked 
across  the  street  to  the  Players’  Club,  where  for  all  I know 
he  may  have  spun  his  cocoon  and  turned  into  a butterfly  or 
a fairy! 

But  the  early  Egyptians,  the  Chinese,  and  other  orientals 
have  probably  made  better  art  out  of  the  cat  than  any  one 
else,  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  have  seldom  attempted 
to  draw  or  model  the  animal  realistically.  Their  sculpture, 
their  frescos,  their  woodblocks  are  generally  fantastic  or  con- 
ventionalized. Thus  they  have  expressed  the  essential  mystery 
of  the  most  mysterious  of  living  beings.  The  old  bronze  cats 
of  the  Egyptians  are  still  full  of  the  breath  of  life.  You  may 
study  several  examples  in  the  Metropolitan  Museum  in  New 
York.  There  you  may  see  two  bronze  cases  for  cat  mummies, 
each  of  which  supports  a cat  figure  in  bronze,  one  crouching, 
the  other  seated  upright.  Both  of  these  objects  are  endowed 
with  a soft  green  patina.  There  also  you  may  find  several  ex- 
quisite blue  faience  figures  of  cats,  and  an  entire  case  is  filled 
with  bronzes.  The  figures  are  mostly  in  the  same  position, 
seated,  but  they  are  all  beautiful.  One  head,  especially,  was 
formed  by  the  artist  in  honest  love.  It  is  perhaps  the  finest 
cat-head  in  the  history  of  art,  transcendent  in  its  dignity,  nobil- 
ity, and  mystery. 

The  Japanese  and  the  Chinese  too  are  almost  Invariably 

229 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

successful  in  depicting  the  domestic  tiger,  no  matter  in  what 
medium  they  work.  They  begin  by  forgetting  the  fur  and  it 
is  on  the  technique  of  painting  fur  that  most  occidental  paint- 
ers waste  their  time,  I think.  Arthur  Davison  Ficke  once  told 
me  that  the  secret  of  Japanese  painting  was  that  the  artist 
never  worked  from  a model;  he  worked  from  memory.  The 
result  is  that  when  he  drew  a cat  on  his  block  he  was  drawing 
his  feeling  for  the  cat.  Hokusai  made  innumerable  coloured 
prints  of  cats,  some  of  which  are  reproduced  in  Champfleury's 
book,  and  all  of  which  have  charm  and  grace.  There  is  an 
adorable  cat  in  the  first  Kiyonobu’s  print  of  The  Princess  and 
the  Kitten, a prancing,  frantically  exhilarating  creature. 
Anci  cats  wander  in  and  out  of  the  work  of  Harunobu,  Kiyom- 
itsu,  Koriusai,  Kitao  Masanobu,  and  Buncho.  The  Mon- 
golians, too,  love  to  represent  the  cat  in  porcelain.  I have 
a Chinese  cat,  Chuang  Tzu,  ivory  porcelain  spotted  with  black, 
who  sits  recumbent  on  his  four  paws,  gazing  with  his  eternal 
eyes  into  the  mystic  maze  of  the  centuries.  He  has  already 
visited  four  continents  and  he  has  forgotten  that  time  exists. 
Other  Japanese  and  Chinese  artists  have  represented  the  cat 
asleep  or  just  about  to  awaken,  or  playing,  but  always  with  the 
grace  of  love,  the  understanding  of  sympathy,  -and  the  un- 
escapable  oriental  touch  of  mystery.  These  artists  because 
they  never  say  too  much,  have  expressed  without  apparent 
difficulty  what  European  artists  almost  always  fail  to  ex- 
press. A row  of  these  exotic  images  from  China  would  re- 
create the  wonder  of  the  animal,  if  she  should  suddenly  be- 
come extinct.  The  art  of  feeling  the  hidden  recesses  of  feline 
reserve  is  now,  it  would  seem,  exclusively  Asiatic. 

There  is  a story  to  this  picture.  Josan  No  Miya,  The  Princess,  was  an 
aristocratic  young  person  much  sought  after  by  the  youths  of  the  region,  but 
she  remained  in  seclusion  until  one  day  when  her  cat,  startled  by  the  noise 
of  the  young  men  come  into  the  courtyard  to  woo,  escaped  from  her,  she 
impulsively  ran  after  it. 


230 


From  the  Japanese  print  by  Kiyonobii  I,  in  the  collection  of  Arthur 
Dai'ison  Ficke 


THE  PRINCESS  AND  THE  CAT 


>1 


Chapter  T^en:  The  Cat  in  Fiction 

In  the  second  of  his  imaginary  dialogues  with  Edmund 
Gosse,  George  Moore  complains  of  the  absence  of  animals  in 
“ Tom  Jones  ” and  “ Vanity  Fair.”  ” Both  books  lack  in- 
timacy of  thought  and  feeling.  No  one  sits  by  the  fire  and 
thinks  what  his  or  her  past  has  been  and  welcomes  the  ap- 
proach of  a familiar  bird  or  animal.  I do  not  remember  any 
dog,  cat,  or  parrot  in  ‘ Vanity  Fair,’  and  I am  almost  certain 
that  ‘ Tom  Jones  ’ is  without  one.  ...  I have  forgotten  their 
names  but  I am  conscious  of  the  presence  of  dogs  and  cats 
in  Dickens’s  pages.”  It  is  true  that  animals  play  an  important 
role  in  prose  fiction,  more  important  than  is  often  realized,  for 
a book  without  animals  is  seldom  a living  book.  Cats  sleep 
by  the  fire  or  frisk  across  the  leaves  of  many  a romance.  In 
“Bleak  House”  alone  there  are  three  cats:  Krook’s  snarl- 

ing Fady  Jane,  who  follows  her  master,  as  Charmion  followed 
Cleopatra,  or  perches  hissing  on  his  shoulder:  she  is  the  symbol 
of  his  mystery;  the  Jellybys’  cat,  who,  more  often  than  not, 
disposes  of  poor  Mr.  Jellyby’s  morning  milk;  and  the  name- 
less cat  of  Mr.  Vohles,  the  lawyer.  Then  there  is  Mrs. 
Pipchin’s  old  cat,  little  Paul  Dombey’s  friend,  who  coiling  him- 
self in  the  fender  purrs  egotistically,  “ while  the  contracting 
pupils  of  his  eyes  looked  like  two  notes  of  admiration.”  In 
“ Pere  Goriot,”  Madame  the  Keeper  of  the  Pension  is  ac- 
companied on  her  introduction  by  her  cat,  Mistigris.  In  the 
end,  all  her  boarders  having  deserted  her,  it  is  announced  as 
a final  blow  that  Mistigris  has  disappeared.  “ Cats  are  very 
graceful  and  very  clean,”  proclaims  Mrs.  Penniman  to  her 
brother  in  “ Washington  Square,”  when  the  good  doctor  sug- 
gests the  drowning  of  the  kittens.  And  in  “ A Small  Boy 

231 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

and  Others,”  Henry  James  remarks  that  he  rubbed  himself 
against  the  Seine-front  in  Paris,  ‘‘  for  endearment  and  con- 
secration, as  a cat  invokes  the  friction  of  a protective  piece 
of  furniture.”  Somewhere  George  Eliot  has  written: 
” Who  can  tell  what  just  criticisms  the  cat  may  be  passing  on 
us  beings  of  wider  speculation?  ” Chattie,  a very  impersonal 
puss,  plays  a small  part  in  the  opening  scenes  of  ” Robert 
Elsmere.”  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  in  ” Emile  ” comments 
upon  the  analogy  between  the  curiosity  of  the  child  and  that 
of  the  cat:  “Observe  a cat  entering  a room  for  the  first 

time : it  searches  and  smells  about,  it  is  not  quiet  for  a mo- 
ment, it  trusts  nothing  until  it  has  examined  and  made  ac- 
quaintance with  everything.  Just  in  the  same  way  would  a 
child  who  was  beginning  to  walk,  and,  so  to  speak,  entering 
upon  the  unknown  space  of  the  world,  demean  itself.”  Nor 
must  we  forget  Don  Quixote’s  adventures  in  the  castle  of 
the  Duke  of  Villahermosa.  Chanting  a love-song  in  his 
chamber  at  midnight,  the  knight  is  suddenly  disturbed  by  a 
prodigious  caterwauling  and  ringing  of  bells.  “ Such  was  the 
din  of  the  bells  and  the  squalling  of  the  cats,  that  though  the 
duke  and  the  duchess  were  the  contrivers  of  the  joke,  they 
were  startled  by  it,  while  Don  Quixote  stood  paralysed  with 
fear:  and  as  luck  would  have  it,  two  or  three  of  the  cats 
made  their  way  in  through  the  grating  of  his  chamber,  and 
flying  from  one  side  to  the  other,  made  it  seem  as  if  there 
was  a legion  of  devils  at  large  in  it.  . . . Don  Quixote  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  drawing  his  sword,  began  making  passes  at 
the  grating,  shouting  out,  ‘ Avaunt,  malignant  enchanters ! 
Avaunt  ye  witchcraft  working  rabble ! I am  Don  Quixote  of 
La  Mancha,  against  whom  your  evil  machinations  avail  not 
nor  have  any  power.’  ” When  the  duke  ran  in  and  laid  hold 
of  a cat  attached  to  the  knight’s  nose,  the  knight  called  out, 
“ Let  no  one  take  him  from  me;  leave  me  hand  to  hand  with 
this  demon,  this  wizard,  this  enchanter;  I will  teach  him,  I 
myself,  who  Don  Quixote  of  La  Mancha  is.”  The  cat,  how- 

232 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

ever,  snarled  and  held  on.  In  Thomas  Love  Peacock’s 
“ Gryll  Grange,”  we  get  a less  goetic  view  of  the  cat.  The 
fragment  may  be  regarded  as  autobiographical:  “ In  all  its 

arrangements  his  house  was  a model  of  order  and  comfort; 
and  the  whole  establishment  partook  of  the  genial  physiog- 
nomy of  the  master.  From  the  master  and  mistress  to  the 
cook,  and  from  the  cook  to  the  tom  cat,  there  was  about  the 
inhabitants  a sleek  and  purring  rotundity  of  face  and  figure 
that  denoted  community  of  feelings,  habits,  and  diet;  each  in 
its  kind,  of  course,  for  the  master  had  his  port,  the  cook  her 
ale,  and  the  cat  his  milk,  in  sufficiently  liberal  allowance.” 
In  ” The  Hill  of  Dreams,”  “ Lucian  leant  back  and  roared 
with  indecent  laughter  till  the  tabby  tom-cat  who  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  poor  dead  beasts  looked  up  reproachfully  from 
his  sunny  corner,  with  a face  like  the  reviewer’s,  innocent  and 
round  and  whiskered.”  Again  Lucian  meets  a cat:  ” In  the 

back  street  by  which  he  passed  out  of  the  town  he  saw  a large 
‘ healthy’  boy  kicking  a sick  cat;  the  poor  creature  had  just 
strength  enough  to  crawl  under  an  outhouse  door;  probably  to 
die  in  torments.  He  did  not  find  much  satisfaction  in  thrash- 
ing the  boy,  but  he  did  it  with  hearty  good  will.”  In  Henry 
Handel  Richardson’s  “ Maurice  Guest,”  ‘‘  Peter  the  Fursts’ 
lean  cat,  had  sneaked  stealthily  in  upon  this,  to  him,  enchanted 
ground  and,  according  to  the  fancier,  had  caused  the  death 
from  fright,  of  a delicate  canary,  although  the  culprit  had 
done  nothing  more  than  sit  before  the  cage,  licking  his  lips.” 
Wotan,  the  one-eyed  cat  in  this  book  is  a memorable  figure. 
Catulle  Mendes,  too,  had  a fancy  for  naming  cats  after  Wag- 
nerian heroes.  Naming  cats  is  beyond  the  powers  of  the  ordi- 
nary brain.  Samuel  Butler  asserts  that  it  is  the  test  of  literary 
power:  ‘‘They  say  the  test  of  this  is  whether  a man  can 

write  an  inscription.  I say,  ‘ Can  he  name  a kitten?’  And 
by  this  test  I am  condemned,  for  I cannot.”  ^ Peter  Whiffle 

^ Samuel  Butler  was  inspired  when  he  wrote  these  lines  in  his  note-book. 
Out  of  every  ten  names  sent  in  for  registry  with  the  Cat  Fanciers’  Federation 

233 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

once  named  two  cats,  George  Moore  and  George  Sand. 
Eventually  they  had  children.  The  King  turns  to  Perion, 
“ fierce,  tense,  and  fragile,  like  an  angered  cat,”  in  Mr.  James 
Branch  Cabell’s  ” The  Soul  of  Melicent  ” and  “ Ele  who 
hunts  with  cats  will  catch  mice  ” is  another  figure  from  this 
book.  The  incorrigible  Jurgen  tells  of  a ghost  who  once 
haunted  him  who  ” towards  morning  took  the  form  of  a 
monstrous  cat,  and  climbed  upon  the  foot  of  my  bed:  and 
there  he  squatted  yowling  until  daybreak.”  ^ And  Jurgen, 
speaking  of  the  glory  of  the  number  nine,  mentions  the  Muses, 
the  lives  of  a cat,  and  how  many  tailors  make  a man.  Kip- 
ling compares  an  engine  leaping  across  a bridge  to  a cat  streak- 
ing along  a fence.  ” You  closed  your  eyes  while  he  was 
kissing  you  like  a cat  being  stroked,”  is  a figure  from  Octave 
Mirbeau’s  ” Chez  I’illustre  ecrivain.”  Achmed  Abdullah,  in 
” The  Honorable  Gentleman,”  says  that  love  is  like  ” wings 
upon  a cat,  like  rabbits’  horns,  like  ropes  made  of  tortoise 
hair.”  Charles-Henry  Hirsch,  in  ” ‘ Petit  ’ Louis,  Boxeur,” 
describes  a professional  pugilist  as  “ leste  comme  line  chatte.” 
Her  little  head  ...”  as  smooth  as  a ca't’s,”  writes  Gelett 
Burgess  in  “ The  White  Cat.”  ” He  knows  no  more  about 
the  world,”  remarks  a character  in  Mr.  Chambers’s  “ The 
King  in  Yellow,”  “ than  a maiden  cat  on  its  first  moonlight 
stroll.”  Peter,  one  of  Mr.  Dreiser’s  ” Twelve  Men,”  tested 
his  skill  ” by  embalming  a dead  cat  or  two  after  the  Egyptian 

nine  are  returned  because  they  have  already  been  used.  The  lack  of  imag- 
ination or  invention  most  people  display  in  christening  pussies  is  almost  beyond 
credence. 

2 In  nightmare  an  oppression  and  suffocation  are  felt  and  one’s  fancy  im- 
mediately conjures  up  a spectre  to  lie  on  one’s  bosom.  Scott  writes  of  a man 
dying,  first  afflicted  by  the  vision  of  a large  cat  which  came  and  disappeared 
he  could  not  tell  exactly  how,  but  the  man  liked  cats  and  became  almost  indif- 
ferent to  the  spectre  until  it  turned  into  a gentleman-usher  dressed  “ as  if  to 
wait  upon  a Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  a Lord  High  Commissioner  of  the 
Kirk,  or  any  other  who  bears  on  his  brow  the  rank  and  stamp  of  delegated 
sovereignty.”  The  hallucination  finally  took  the  form  of  a skeleton,  and 
the  patient  died  under  the  effects  of  this  visitation.  “ Demonology  and  Witch- 
craft,” P.  30. 


234 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

manner.”  In  this  same  book  Culhane,  the  solid  man,  asserts, 
“ a dog  . . . eats  what  he  needs,  and  then  stops.  So  does 
a cat,”  which,  as  Mr.  Dreiser  adds,  is  by  no  means  true.  In 
Richard  Middleton’s  ” The  Ghost  Ship,”  you  may  read,  “ As 
a rule  the  cat  kept  me  company,  and  I was  pleased  with  his 
placid  society,  though  he  made  my  legs  cramped.  I thought 
that  I too  would  like  to  be  a cat.”  And  again,  “ Like  a cat 
I wanted  to  dream  somewhere  where  I would  be  neglected  by 
friends  and  foes  alike.”  Yet  again,  “ Then  there  was  the  vi- 
sion of  two  small  feet  that  moved  a long  way  off,  and  Toby 
would  watch  them  curiously  as  kittens  do  their  tails,  without 
knowing  the  cause  of  their  motion.”  The  postillion  in  “ Lav- 
engro  ” uses  a wonderful  cat  figure  in  his  description  of  a 
priest:  “ My  mother  had  a sandy  cat,  which  sometimes  used 

to  open  its  mouth  wide  with  a mew  nobody  could  hear,  and 
the  silent  laugh  of  that  red-haired  priest  used  to  put  me  won- 
derfully in  mind  of  the  silent  mew  of  my  mother’s  sandy-red 
cat.”  “ Growling  to  herself,  something  after  the  manner  of 
an  old  grimalkin  when  disturbed,”  is  a figure  from  “ The 
Bible  in  Spain.” 

Pierre  Loti  invariably  writes  of  cats  with  a sympathy  and 
a comprehension  that  partakes  of  the  mystic  (“  stranger  than 
strange”  is  Henry  James’s  description  of  the  performance), 
and  his  fondness  for  the  little  animal  causes  him  to  mention  her 
frequently.  Sometimes,  in  his  books,  she  appears  in  person; 
sometimes  her  qualities  are  used  figuratively.  In  ‘‘  Japon- 
eries  d’Automne,”  he  speaks  of  the  “ mous7nes  aux  yeux  de 
chat.”  Rarahu,  the  quaint  little  heroine  of  “ Le  Mariage  de 
Loti,”  which  reminds  us  that  the  author  visited  the  South  Seas 
before  Stevenson  or  Gauguin  or  the  somewhat  discredited  hero 
of  “ The  Moon  and  Sixpence,”  loved  a cat,  a mournful  beast 
named  Turiri,  who  was  sick  a good  deal  and  followed  her 
mistress  about,  howling  mournfully  and  eating  blue  butterflies. 
She  arched  her  back  at  the  nude  Chinaman  who  tried  to 
seduce  Rarahu  with  presents,  and  once,  after  a hegira,  she 

235 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

created  a havoc  at  a feast  by  leaping  on  the  table  and  dis- 
turbing the  cups  and  plates  in  very  uncatlike  fashion.  Plum- 
ket,  one  of  the  characters  of  the  book,  was  called  by  the 
Tahitians,  “ Oeil  de  Chat”  Loti’s  cat  figures  are  always  de- 
scriptive: Rarahu  avait  des  yeux  d!un  noir  roux,  pleins  d’une 

langueur  exotique,  d’une  douceur  caline,  comnie  celle  des  jeunes 
chats  quand  on  les  caresse.”  Another:  “ avec  une  prestesse 
de  jeune  chatte  nerveuse  et  courroucee”  Still  another: 
“ Comme  deux  chattes  qui  vont  se  rouler  et  s’ egratigner  les 
deux  petites  se  regardaient.”  He  hears  some  Chinese  actors, 
" avec  des  vo'ix  de  chats  de  gouttieres.” 

His  biographical  pictures  of  his  two  cats,  Moumoutte 
Blanche  and  Moumoutte  Chinoise,  are  perhaps  the  most  care- 
ful studies  of  cats  that  exist.  Who  that  loves  either  Loti 
or  pussies  does  not  know  them?  In  “Une  bete  galeuse,”  ^ 
his  subject  is  a tom  cat  suffering  from  mange,  the  dread  lep- 
rosy of  cats,  which  has  eaten  the  fur  away  from  his  head  and 
made  it  impossible  for  him  further  to  make  his  toilet.  Loti 
rescues  this  poor  beast  from  the  wall  where  he  has  climbed 
to  die  and  with  the  aid  of  a groom  in  the  stables  gives  him 
chloroform.  And  with  that  unerring  personal  touch  which  is 
one  of  his  passwords  into  the  company  of  the  immortals,  he 
awakens  our  pity  much  more  than  our  horror  for  the  poor 
dumb  brute  who  as  he  is  dying  fixes  Loti  with  his  eyes  which 
seem  to  say,  “ It  was  to  kill  me  you  rescued  me.  . . . And  you 
see,  I am  letting  you  do  it.  . . . It  is  too  late.  ...  I shall 
sleep.”  And  the  poor  sick  head  drops  in  the  writer’s  hand. 

There  is  another  harrowing  study  of  a sick  cat  in  the  last 
pages  of  “ En  Rade.”  Huysmans,  of  course,  spares  the 
reader  nothing.  This  lank,  half-starved  beast,  belonging  to 
Aunt  Norine,  came  into  the  monotonous  lives  of  Jacques  and 
Louise.  At  first  very  wild,  he  rapidly  became  tame  and  “ he 
rested  finally  sleeping  with  Louise,  taking  her  throat  between 
his  paws  from  time  to  time,  and  through  friendliness  rubbing 

3 “ Le  Livre  de  la  Pitie  et  de  la  Mort.” 

236 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

his  head  against  her  cheek.”  A little  later  Huysmans  de- 
scribes the  animal:  “The  fact  is  that  this  cat,  thin  as  a 

hundred  nails,  carried  his  pointed  head  in  the  form  of  a pike’s 
jaw  and  as  the  climax  of  disgrace  had  black  lips;  his  fur  was 
ashen  grey,  waved  with  rust,  a vagabond’s  garment,  with  the 
hair  dull  and  dry.  His  hairless  tail  was  like  a cord  with  a 
little  tuft  at  the  end  and  the  skin  of  his  belly,  torn,  no  doubt, 
in  a fall,  hung  like  a fetlock  of  which  the  dirty  hair  swept  the 
ground.  Were  it  not  for  his  enormous  caline  eyes  in  the 
green  fluid  of  which  golden  gravel  circled  incessantly,  he  would 
have  been,  under  his  poor  and  changeable  coat,  a low  son  of 
the  race  of  the  gutters,  an  unspeakable  cat.”  Presently  he  be- 
gan to  die,  suffering  the  most  exquisite  agony,  an  agony,  which 
readers  of  Huysmans  may  well  believe,  is  protracted  for  pages 
and  discussed  in  detail.  Indeed  it  may  be  said  that  this  inci- 
dent shares  with  the  birth  of  the  calf  the  dramatic  interest  of 
the  book.  It  is  carefully  observed.  When  Louise  tried  to 
alleviate  his  suffering,  “ he  cried  at  each  effort  and  she  dared 
not  aid  him  because  his  poor  body  seemed  to  be  a clavier 
of  pain  which  resounded  to  each  touch.”  Finally  Louise 
placed  an  apron  over  the  poor  beast  and  left  him. 

This  cat  was  a composite  picture  of  two  of  Huysmans’s  own 
cats.  The  death  scene  is  a transcription  of  the  final  struggles 
of  Barre-de-Rouille,  a big  red  tabby  gutter  cat,  who  was  a 
wonderful  hunter  and  caught  bats  from  Huysmans’s  balcony  at 
night.  He  appears  in  his  healthier  days  as  one  of  the  charac- 
ters of  “ En  Menage.”  A later  occupant  of  Huysmans’s 
household,  Mouche,  an  ugly  grey  cat,  sat  for  the  description 
of  the  feline  in  “ En  Rade,”  and  appears  more  characteristi- 
cally in  “ La-Bas.”  A true  philosopher,  he  assists,  curious 
but  calm,  at  the  most  intimate  diversions  of  Durtal  and  his 
mistress,  while  his  green  eyes  seem  to  say,  “ How  useless  all 

^ This  description  is  proof  that  Huysmans  was  well  acquainted  with  cats, 
if  any  such  proof  were  needed.  A cat  is  never  able  to  locate  pain.  If  his 
foot  hurts  he  will  yowl  if  you  touch  his  breast. 


237 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

this  Is!”  Mouche  was  an  affectionate  cat  who  waited  for 
Huysmans  at  the  door  and  purred  sympathetically  when  he 
entered. 

It  is  highly  probable  that  Balzac  meant  his  “ Peines  de 
Coeur  d’une  Chatte  Anglaise  ” ® to  be  something  more  than  a 
cat  story.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe,  indeed,  that  It 
may  be  regarded  as  an  ingenious  satirical  comparison  of  the 
French  and  British  manners  of  making  love,  an  ironic 
commentary  on  Anglo-Saxon  respectability.  Whether  J. 
Thomson,  the  English  translator  of  the  book  in  which  It  ap- 
peared, felt  that  this  satire  was  too  keen  for  English  minds 
or  whether  he  was  shocked  by  certain  rather  lively  passages 
in  the  original,  at  any  rate  he  saw  fit  to  omit  It  from  his  version. 
This  story  of  the  demure  English  puss  brought  up  in  a strict 
household  where  she  is  taught  to  read  the  Bible  and  suppress 
her  desires  is  delicious.  The  cats  of  Albion,  according  to  Bal- 
zac, are  always  respectable  and  never  natural.  To  the  simple 
white  Beauty  comes  the  remarkable  and  splendid  Puff,  a 
superb  Angora  who  is  so  bored  that  he  goes  to  sleep  in  front 
of  his  prospective  mistress  but  she,  with  her  lack  of  expe- 
rience, Infatuated  by  his  languor  and  magnificence,  falls  an 
easy  victim.  She  marries  him  but  he  continues  to  sleep  every 
night  and  she  continues  to  suppress  her  desires.  One  night, 
however,  while  he  Is  asleep,  her  curiosity  overcomes  her  mod- 
esty and  she  ascends  to  the  rooftop  where  she  makes  the 
acquaintance  of  a rowdy  French  maquereau  cat  named  Bris- 
quet,  who  immediately  finds  it  convenient  to  assail  her  timid 
heart  with  such  effective  ammunition  that  I think  I cannot  do 
better  than  to  reproduce  his  impassioned  appeal  in  full  in  the 
original  French : 

“Dear  Beauty,  de  longtemps  d’ici  la  nature  ne  pourra 
former  line  Chatte  auss'i  parfaite  que  vous.  he  cachemire  de 
la  Perse  et  des  hides  semhle  etre  du  poll  de  Chameau  compare 

® “ vie  Privee  et  Publiqiie  des  Animaux.” 

238 


BEAUTY  AND  BRISQUET 

From  a drawing  by  Grandville  in  Vie  privee  et  publiqjie  des  animaux 


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in  - 


I'A.'H. 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

a VOS  soies  fines  et  brillantes.  V oiis  exhalez  un  parfum 
a faire  evanomr  de  bonheur  les  anges,  et  je  I’ai  senti  du  salon 
dll  Prince  de  Talleyrand,  que  j’ai  quitte  pour  accourir  a ce 
deluge  de  sottises  que  vous  appelez  un  meeting.  Le  feu  de 
VOS  yeux  eclaire  la  nuit!  Vos  oreilles  seraient  la  perfection 
meme  si  mes  gemissements  les  attendrissaient.  II  n’ y a pas 
de  rose  dans  tonte  I’ Angleterre  qui  soit  aussi  rose  que  la  chair 
rose  qui  borde  votre  petite  bouche  rose.  Un  pecheur  cherch- 
erait  vainenient  dans  les  abimes  d’Ormus  des  perles  qui  puis- 
sent  valoir  vos  dents.  Votre  cher  museau  fn,  gracieux,  est 
tout  ce  que  V Angleterre  a produit  de  plus  mignon.  La  neige 
des  Alpes  paraitrait  rousse  aupres  de  votre  robe  celeste.  Ah! 
ces  sortes  de  polls  ne  se  voient  que  dans  vos  brouillards! 
Vos  pattes  portent  mollement  et  avec  grace  ce  corps  qui  est 
I’abrege  des  miracles  de  la  creation,  mais  que  votre  queue, 
interprete  elegant  des  mouvements  de  votre  cceur,  surpasse: 
Old!  jamais  courbe  si  Aegante,  rondeur  plus  correcte,  mouve- 
ments plus  delicats  ne  se  sont  vus  chez  aucune  Chatte.” 

You  will  not  be  able  to  believe  that  any  woman’s  virtue 
would  be  proof  against  such  an  attack,  but  Beauty  fled  from 
it  . . . only  to  return  a few  nights  later.  She  began  to  feel 
drawn  towards  the  rooftops  as  Louise  felt  the  call  of  Paris, 
and  when  Brisquet  began  to  talk  carelessly  about  his  con- 
quest and  she  began  to  murmur  in  her  sleep,  “ Cher  petit 
homme!”  in  French,  Puff  at  last  woke  up,  dragged  his  un- 
fortunate wife  to  Doctors’  Commons,  and  secured  a divorce. 
A little  later  Brisquet  was  stabbed  in  the  back  and  the  dis- 
graced Beauty  was  left  entirely  alone.  The  irony  of  the  story 
lies  in  the  fact  that  her  husband  has  never  satisfied  her  longings 
and  she  has  throughout  been  afraid  to  yield  to  her  lover. 
The  little  declassee  at  the  end  of  the  tale  is  as  pure  as  the 
virgin  of  the  beginning. 

In  Balzac’s  “ Une  Fllle  d’Eve,”  the  musician  Schmuke  has 
a magnificent  Angora  named  Murr : “ Je  Vai  nomme  Murr,” 

239 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

remarks  his  master,  " pur  clorivier  nodre  crant  Hoffmann  te 
Perlin,  ke  che  paugouhe  gonni.”  Hoffmann’s  cat  Murr,  in- 
deed, was  something  more  than  a literary  philosopher.  The 
death  of  Murr  was  one  of  the  profound  events  in  this  fantastic 
writer’s  life.  To  his  friend  Litzig  he  wrote  on  November  30, 
1821  : “In  the  night  between  the  twenty-ninth  and  thirtieth 

of  November,  my  dear  pupil,  the  cat  Murr,  w;ent  to  sleep  to 
relive  in  a better  life,  after  short  but  violent  suffering.  He 
was  four  years  old  and  full  of  hope.  Those  who  know  that 
I weep  will  understand  my  grief  and  will  respect  it  — by  their 
silence.’’ 

There  are  many  females  in  the  novels  of  Emile  Zola.  He 
began  by  putting  two,  one  black,  the  other  white,  in  his 
“ Nouveaux  Contes  a Ninon.’’  In  the  foyer  of  the  theatre 
of  Bordenaire  in  “ Nana  ’’  there  is  an  enormous  red  cat  who 
has  an  aversion  for  the  odour  of  the  gum  which  the  old 
comedian  Bose  rubs  on  his  cheeks  in  order  to  attach  his  beard. 
In  “ La  Faute  de  I’Abbe  Mouret  ’’  there  are  three  cats,  coun- 
try cats,  like  Zola’s  cats  at  Medan.  The  black  one  is 
called  Moumou.  There  is  also  Francois,  the  cat  with  the 
hard,  ironic,  cruel  gaze,  of  the  diabolic  stare  in  “ Therese 
Raquin.’’  Zola’s  own  favourite  was  Minouche  of  “ La  Joie 
de  Vivre,’’  a little  white  cat  with  delicate  airs,  whose  tail 
twitched  with  disgust  at  the  sight  of  mud,  but  who  nevertheless 
ventured  four  times  a year  into  the  soft  mud  of  the  brooks. 
Zola  was  an  ardent  ailurophile  and  there  were  always  several 
cats  at  Medan. 

In  that  inconceivably  stupid,  pretentious,  highfalutin,  and 
altogether  reprehensible  bundle  of  nonsense  called  “ Eugene 
Aram,’’  Bulwer-Lytton  has  drawn  an  extraordinarily  life-like 
picture  of  a cat.  As  every  human  character  in  the  book  is 
made  of  wax,  or  wood,  or  sand,  and  as  cats  are  infinitely 
more  difficult  to  individualize  and  describe  than  men,  this  feat 
must  be  set  down  as  one  of  some  importance.  Jacobina,  for 
so  is  the  grimalkin  called,  belongs  to  Corporal  Bunting,  whom 

240 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

she  loves  with  a unique  devotion,  which,  of  course,  is  returned, 
for  cats  only  display  this  emotion  when  it  is  richly  deserved. 
Corporal  Bunting  calls  her  “ daughter,  wife,  friend,”  and  the 
brindled  Jacobina  rubs  her  sides  against  his  leg  and  purrs. 

Under  the  tutelage  of  the  corporal  she  had  become  a re- 
markable animal,  learning  to  fetch  and  carry,  to  turn  over 
head  and  tail  like  a tumbler,  to  run  up  his  shoulder,  “ to  fly  as 
if  she  were  mad  at  any  one  upon  whom  the  corporal  saw  fit 
to  set  her;  and,  above  all,  to  rob  larders,  shelves,  and  tables, 
and  bring  the  produce  to  the  corporal,  who  never  failed  to 
consider  such  stray  waifs  lawful  manorial  acquisitions.  These 
little  feline  cultivations  of  talent,  however  delightful  to  the 
corporal,  had,  nevertheless,  rendered  the  corporal’s  cat  a 
proverb  and  byword  in  the  neighbourhood.  Never  was  a 
cat  in  such  bad  odour;  and  the  dislike  in  which  it  was  held 
was  wonderfully  increased  by  terror, — for  the  creature  was 
signally  large  and  robust,  and  withal  of  so  courageous  a 
temper,  that  if  you  attempted  to  resist  its  invasion  of  your 
property  it  forthwith  sat  up  its  back,  put  down  its  ears,  opened 
its  mouth,  and  bade  you  fully  comprehend  that  what  it  felon- 
iously seized  it  could  gallantly  defend.  . . . Various  deputa- 
tions had,  from  time  to  time,  arrived  at  the  corporal’s  cottage 
requesting  the  death,  expulsion,  or  perpetual  imprisonment  of 
the  favourite.  But  the  stout  corporal  received  them  gruffly, 
and  the  cat  went  on  waxing  in  size  and  wickedness,  and  baffling, 
as  if  inspired  by  the  devil,  the  various  gins  and  traps  set  for 
its  destruction.” 

Miss  Repplier  relates  an  anecdote  of  a Southern  gentleman 
who  brought  suit  in  a court  of  law  against  his  next-door 
neighbour  for  alienating  the  affections  of  his  cat.  The  testi- 
mony declared  that  a certain  maltese  puss  was  the  plaintiff’s 
sole  companion  who  spent  her  evenings  devotedly  by  the  side 
of  her  master.  This  happy  life  was  broken  into  by  the  advent 
of  a widow  who  rented  the  adjoining  house  and  garden.  Puss 
visited  the  new  neighbour  and  was  welcomed.  Soon  she  be- 

241 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

gan  to  pass  her  days  there,  but  the  gentleman  overlooked  this 
as  he  was  away  until  sundown  and  only  began  to  miss  his  cat 
when  dinner  time  arrived.  A little  later,  however,  the  fickle 
maltese  stayed  away  at  night,  and  when  brought  back  by  force, 
sulked  and  glowered  in  corners  until  she  could  again  escape. 
The  widow  declared  in  court  that  an  intelligent  cat  had  the 
right  to  choose  her  own  friends  and  surroundings  and,  however 
the  suit  ended,  one  may  be  sure  that  the  cat  continued  to  ex- 
ercise her  own  preferences. 

In  his  very  amusing  “ Zut,”  the  talented  Guy  Wetmore 
Carryl  has  related  a similar  story,  the  story  of  a cat  who 
lived  in  the  epicerie  of  Jean-Baptiste  Caille  in  the  Avenue  de 
la  Grande  Armee  in  Paris.  Zut  was  “ a white  Angora  cat  of 
surpassing  beauty  and  prodigious  size.  She  had  come  into 
Alexandrine’s  possession  as  a kitten,  and,  what  with  much  eat- 
ing and  an  inherent  dislike  for  exercise,  had  attained  her  pres- 
ent proportions  and  her  superb  air  of  unconcern.  It  was  from 
the  latter  that  she  derived  her  name,  the  which,  in  Parisian 
argot,  at  once  means  everything  and  nothing,  but  is  chiefly 
taken  to  signify  complete  and  magnificent  indifference  to  all 
things  mundane  and  material:  and  in  the  matter  of  indifference 
Zut  was  past-mistress.  Even  for  Madame  Caille  herself,  who 
fed  her  with  the  choicest  morsels  from  her  own  plate,  brushed 
her  fine  fur  with  excessive  care,  and  addressed  caressing  re- 
marks to  her  at  minute  intervals  throughout  the  day,  Zut 
manifested  a lack  of  interest  that  amounted  to  contempt.  As 
she  basked  in  the  warm  sun  at  the  shop  door,  the  round  face 
of  her  mistress  beamed  upon  her  from  the  little  desk,  and  the 
voice  of  her  mistress  sent  fulsome  flattery  winging  towards 
her  on  the  heavy  air.  Was  she  beautiful,  mon  Dieu ! In 
effect  all  that  one  could  dream  of  the  most  beautiful!  And 
her  eyes,  a blue  like  the  heaven,  were  they  not  wise  and  calm? 
Mon  Dieu,  yes!  It  was  a cat  among  thousands,  a mimi  al- 
most divine.”  Now  Madame  Alexandrine  Caille  bore  a rich 

242 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

resentment  against  Esperance  Sergeot  and  her  husband,  the 
proprietors  of  the  very  smart  hair-dressing  shop  immediately 
adjoining  the  grocery,  and  this  resentment  was  increased  when 
one  day  she  perceived  Zut  sitting  in  the  doorway  of  this  shop. 
Zut  had  been  allured  and  fascinated  by  the  sweet  odours,  the 
mirrors,  the  soft  cushions,  and  when  Esperance  fed  her  cream 
and  fish,  she  capitulated  and  purred  as  she  had  not  been  in  the 
habit  of  purring  for  Alexandrine.  Her  mistress  tore  puss 
away  from  this  life  of  shameless  luxury  but  Zut  returned  and 
bore  kittens  at  the  hair-dresser’s.  Now  on  this  point  the 
Parisian  law  is  explicit:  kittens  belong  to  the  owner  of  the 
premises  on  which  they  are  littered;  the  owner  of  the  cat  has 
no  standing  in  the  matter.  Zut  was  delivered  of  one  pure 
white  kitten,  while  the  rest  were  “ any  other  colour,”  mottled 
types.  Esperance  concludes  the  situation  and  the  story  by  re- 
taining the  prize  and  sending  Zut  and  the  rest  of  her  brood 
back  to  the  grocery. 

Rudyard  Kipling,  dropping  into  an  appropriate  folklore 
style,  has  written  a delicious  story  called,  “ The  cat  that  walked 
by  himself.”  ® We  are  told  how  the  cave  man  and  his  woman 
persuaded  the  dog  and  the  horse  and  the  cow  to  give  up  their 
freedom  in  return  for  food  and  protection;  but  the  cat  made 
a bargain  with  the  woman  whereby  he  is  offered  milk  and  a 
place  under  the  roof  by  the  hearth  in  return  for  doing  only 
what  he  cares  to  do  and  would  do  naturally  if  he  were  wild, 
play  and  catch  rrtice.  ” The  Cat  keeps  his  side  of  the  bargain. 
He  will  kill  mice  and  he  will  be  kind  to  babies  when  he  is  in 
the  house,  just  so  long  as  they  do  not  pull  his  tail  too  hard. 
But  when  he  has  done  that,  and  between  times,  he  is  the  Cat 
that  walks  by  himself,  and  all  places  are  alike  to  him.  Then 
he  goes  out  to  the  Wet  Wild  Woods  or  up  on  the  Wet 
Wild  Trees  or  on  the  Wet  Wild  Roofs,  waving  his  wild  tail 
and  walking  by  his  wild  lone.” 

® “ Just  So  Stories.” 

243 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Ambrose  Bierce,  too,  curiously  enough,  approached  the  cat 
in  the  folklore  spirit,  writing  about  him  in  the  fable  form,  and 
like  the  other  fabulists  somewhat  paraphrased  those  who  have 
gone  before  him.  His  three  feline  fables  are  short  enough 
so  that  I can  give  them  complete. 

“ A cat  was  looking  at  a King,  as  permitted  by  the  proverb. 

“ ‘ Well,’  said  the  Monarch,  observing  her  inspection  of 
the  royal  person,  ‘ how  do  you  like  me?  ’ 

“ ‘ I can  imagine  a King,’  said  the  Cat,  ‘ whom  I should  like 
better.’ 

“ ‘ For  example  ? ’ 

“ ‘ The  King  of  the  Mice.’ 

“ The  sovereign  was  so  pleased  with  the  wit  of  the  reply 
that  he  gave  her  permission  to  scratch  his  Prime  Minister’s 
eyes  out.” 

“ A Cat  fell  in  love  with  a handsome  Young  Man,  and  en- 
treated Venus  to  change  her  into  a woman. 

” ‘ I should  think,’  said  Venus,  ‘ you  might  make  so  trifling  a 
change  without  bothering  me.  However,  be  a woman.’ 

” Afterward,  wishing  to  see  if  the  change  were  complete, 
Venus  caused  a mouse  to  approach,  whereupon  the  woman 
shrieked  and  made  such  a show  of  herself  that  the  Young 
Man  would  not  marry  her.” 

“ Hearing  that  the  Birds  in  an  aviary  were  ill,  a Cat  went 
to  them  and  said  that  he  was  a physician,  and  would  cure  them 
if  they  would  let  him  in. 

“ ‘ To  what  school  of  medicine  do  you  belong?  ’ asked  the 
Birds. 

” ‘ I am  a Miaulopathist,”  said  the  Cat. 

“ ‘ Did  you  ever  practice  Gohomoeopathy  ? ’ the  Birds  in- 
quired, winking  faintly. 

” The  Cat  took  the  hint  and  his  leave.” 

’'“Fantastic  Fables”;  G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons;  1899. 

244 


The  Cat  in  Fiction 

In  “ Blind  Alley,”  Mr.  W.  L.  George  has  written  a book 
about  the  effect  of  the  war  on  an  upper  middle  class  English 
family.  Every  character  in  the  story,  save  alone  the  cat, 
comes  to  the  end  of  a blind  alley  as  the  result  of  the  world 
conflict  and  Mr.  George  seems  to  imply  that  England  and 
the  world  in  general  have  come  to  the  end  of  a blind  alley 
too.  But  through  the  general  agitation,  prostration,  sex  ex- 
citement, stupidity,  folly,  worry,  and  anxiety  of  the  book, 
calmly  walks  Kallikrates,  the  orange  Persian  cat.  Now  if 
Mr.  George  intended  anything  at  all  by  this  cat,  and  he  must 
have  intended  a good  deal  because  Kallikrates  opens  and  closes 
the  book  and,  along  with  an  otherwise  unmentioned  creature 
named  Russet,  receives  half  the  dedication,  he  intended  to  con- 
vey his  superiority  to  any  of  the  human  beings  about  whom 
he  has  written.  There  is  about  this  feline  an  abstraction  from 
things  real,  a separation  of  spirit  from  matter,  a meditative- 
ness, which  place  him  on  a plane  considerably  higher  than  that 
of  the  human  philosophy  which  occasionally  for  brief  periods 
sustains  the  people  of  the  book.  ” Kallikrates,”  murmurs  Sir 
Hugh,  “ If  you  were  a man  I don’t  think  you  would  have 
joined  up.”  . . . And  again:  “ Ah  I Kallikrates  didn’t  care. 

He  went  on  purring,  and  drinking  milk,  and  begging  for  toast. 
And  when  he  wanted  you  he  put  an  enormous  paw,  lined 
with  orange  velvet,  upon  your  knee.  And  when  he  didn’t 
want  you  he  just  walked  away,  leaving  behind  him  a trail  of 
contempt.  Oh ! fortunate  cat,  aloof  from  all  passions  and  all 
responsibilities,  centre  of  his  visible  world,  on  whom  no  emo- 
tions are  enjoined  and  that  dwells  on  an  Olympus  below  the 
crest  of  which  loves  and  duties  hang  pale  as  clouds.  Like  a 
god,  looking  down  without  emotion  or  curiosity  on  little  serv- 
ant men.”  Later,  in  the  midst  of  war.  Sir  Hugh  apostro- 
phizes the  superb  feline  eunuch:  ‘‘‘Sultan!  Debauchee! 
Don  Juan!  Casanova!  Petronlus!  Demetrios!  Margue- 
rite of  Navarre  and  Maria  Monk!  Thou  dost  contain  all 
their  sensuous  souls.  Oh,  Kallikrates,  lascivious  and  epicene! 

245 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Is  this  not  for  thee  a world  of  velvet  and  down,  padded  against 
all  shocks,  running  with  the  milk  of  Canaan  and  the  honey  of 
Hymettus?  When  the  last  constellations  faint  and  fall,  as 
thine  own  Sussex  poet  says,  thou  shalt  neither  faint  nor  fall.’ 
He  poked  the  cat  suddenly  in  the  ribs:  ‘ Get  up!  you  fat  yel- 

low pig.  Don’t  you  know  that  there’s  a revolution  going  on 
in  Russia?  Don’t  sit  there,  and  purr,  and  be  superior  to  such 
things.  I’ll  have  no  Plato  in  this  house  urging  me  to  modera- 
tion and  aloofness.  What  do  you  think  I keep  you  for? 
Charity  brat!  Not  to  sit  there  like  a sham  Socrates,  plead- 
ing  by  your  inaction  that  life  and  death  are  the  same  thing.’ 
Kallikrates  very  slowly  rose,  yawned  enormously,  stretched 
and  lay  down  again  on  his  side,  his  rosy  nose  hidden  between 
his  hind  paws.  Alone,  a watchful  strip  of  yellow  eye  showed 
that  he  was  ready  to  bite  and  claw  if  the  sacred  fur  of  his 
belly  was  touched.  For  a moment  Sir  Hugh  thought  only 
of  his  cat’s  beauty.  Then  he  came  to  regret  that  in  the  present 
times  beauty  should  be  so  little  cared  for,  so  easily  abandoned, 
when  little  mortals  took  to  political  agitation.”  And  at  the 
end  of  the  book  we  leave  the  delightful  Kallikrates  on  Sir 
Hugh’s  desk:  “ A long  stare  of  his  amber  eyes  assured  him 

that  nothing  dangerous  lay  there.  So  slowly,  cautiously,  he 
sank  down,  one  after  the  other  folded  the  velvet  gauntlets  of 
his  paws,  composed  his  squat  head  into  the  sumptuous  silk  of 
his  ruff.  His  eyelids  began  to  droop,  the  watchful  strip  of 
gold  below  them  grew  less  and  less.  He  breathed  louder; 
by  degrees  there  purred  forth  from  his  throat  the  soft  song 
that  conceals  neither  joy,  nor  pain,  nor  hope,  but  is  all  content, 
uncritical  and  faith  eternal  in  the  permanence  of  aloof  good 
things  in  an  unchanging  world.” 

In  many  novels  the  cat  has  appeared  as  a domestic  acces- 
sory, a necessity  of  the  fireside;  in  others  he  has  played  a part 
in  the  drama,  lived  his  little  life,  or  died  his  little  death,  but, 
for  the  first  time,  in  “ Blind  Alley  ” he  emerges  as  a critic  and 
philosopher,  and  a true  superior  to  man. 

246 


Chapter  Kleven:  T^he  Cat  and  the  Poet 

In  that  remarkable  volume  in  which  Cesare  Lombroso  at- 
tempts to  prove  that  all  men  of  genius  are  tainted  w'ith  insanity 
he  makes  a complete  case  against  Charles  Baudelaire.  The 
charges  are  that  he  wrote  three  poems  about  cats.  But  if 
three  poems  would  put  the  poet  of  the  “ Fleurs  du  Mai  ” in 
Bedlam,  Madame  Deshoulieres,  who  wrote  more  than  a dozen, 
Heinrich  Heine,  Joseph  Victor  von  Scheffel,  Raoul  Gineste, 
and  Oliver  Herford  would  have  to  be  strait-jacketed  and  given 
the  water  cure!  Why,  one  might  ask  the  learned  professor, 
were  he  still  alive,  is  it  any  more  evidence  of  insanity  to  choose 
puss  for  the  subject  of  a rhyme  than  a mountain  or  a man, 
not  to  speak  of  a Greek  vase  or  a skylark?  And  doubtless 
the  good  doctor  would  lay  a portentous  finger  on  his  lip  and 
ejaculate  a ponderous  and  all-knowing  “ah!”  which  might 
settle  the  question  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  but  which 
might  leave  us  in  some  doubt  as  to  the  validity  of  his  prepos- 
terous conclusions.  But  these  men  of  science,  in  their  valiant 
attempts  to  prove  something,  stop  at  nothing.  “ They  show 
a want  of  knowledge  that  must  be  the  result  of  years  of  study,” 
Oscar  Wilde  once  sapiently  remarked. 

Poets,  I believe,  are  more  closely  In  touch  with  the  spirit 
of  grimalkin,  the  soul  of  a pussy-cat,  than  either  prose  writers 
or  painters.  They  should  be,  because  poets  are  mystics,  at 
least  the  great  poets  are  mystics,  speaking  like  the  oracle  or 
the  clairvoyant,  words  that  come,  of  which  they  themselves 
may  not  even  understand  the  meaning.  And  the  poet  knocks 
at  gates  which  sometimes  open  wide,  disclosing  gardens  to 
which  entrance  is  denied  to  those  who  stumble  to  find  truth  in 

247 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

reason  and  experience.  Faith  is  needed  to  comprehend  the 
cat,  to  understand  that  one  can  never  completely  comprehend 
the  cat. 

Puss  rambles  in  and  out  of  verse  from  an  early  date. 
Doubtless  Babylonians,  Zends,  and  shaggy  Patagonians  wrote 
poems  about  the  cat.  She  appears  in  Greek  poetry  and  early 
Persian.  Lope  de  Vega  is  reported  to  have  celebrated  her 
bewildering  beauty  and  Saadi  refers  to  her  in  his  “ Gulistan.” 
Tasso  indited  a sonnet  to  her.  One  Domenico  Balestieri  in 
1741  published  in  Milan  a volume  entitle4  “Tears  upon  the 
death  of  a cat,”  ^ in  which  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  pages 
in  several  languages  are  consecrated  to  the  memory  of  a single 
tabby. 

English  poets  have  not  neglected  the  cat;  nor  on  the  whole 
have  they  been  unkind  to  her,  but  generally  they  have  been 
quite  content  to  describe  her  as  a hunter  of  rats  and  mice  and 
birds,  as  a fireside  companion,  or  as  a plaything.  By  a curi- 
ous irony  the  cat  denotes  the  commonplace  as  often  as  she  does 
the  mystic.  She  is  the  complement  of  the  peasant’s  hearth 
and  the  shop-keeper’s  friend,  just  as  surely  as  she  is  the  astrol- 
oger’s apprentice  and  the  familiar  of  the  pythoness. 
Goldsmith  strikes  this  common  chord  of  C major  when  he 
writes : 

Around,  in  sympathetic  mirth, 

Its  tricks  the  kitten  tries; 

The  cricket  chirrups  on  the  hearth. 

The  cracklinff  fagot  flies. 

Robert  Herrick  sounds  the  same  harmony: 

A cat  I keep. 

That  plays  about  my  house. 

Grown  fat  with  eating  • 

Many  a miching  mouse. 

1 I have  found  frequent  references  to  this  work,  but  have  never  seen  the 
book  itself. 


248 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Another  example  from  this  writer  is  prettier : 

Yet  can  thy  humble  roof  maintaine  a quire 
Of  singing  crickets  by  thy  fire; 

And  the  brisk  mouse  may  feast  herself e with  crumbs. 

Till  that  the  green-eyed  kitling  comes. 

Even  Gautier  and  Heine,  to  whom  cats  were  something  of 
a religion, 2 devoted  passages  in  their  poems  to  the  domestic 
possibilities  of  puss. 

Seldom,  indeed,  until  recently  at  least,  has  there  seemed 
anything  mysterious  about  the  cat  to  the  English  poet;  to  his 
unobservant  eyes  she  has  appeared  as  matter-of-fact  an  animal 
as  the  cow  or  the  dog,  although  differing  in  external  appear- 
ance and  character  from  either.  It  is  only  in  the  late  nine- 
teenth and  the  twentieth  century  that  cat-worship  has  been 
revived  in  England  and  that  the  strange  complexities  of  her 
occult  nature  have  come  to  be  admired  again. 

One  of  the  earliest  of  the  English  bards,  John  Skelton,  treats 
her  harshly,  but  he  is  writing  a poem  about  a sparrow.  Nat- 
urally, therefore,  he  calls  down  vengeance. 

On  all  the  whole  nacyon 
Of  cattes  wylde  and  tame; 

God  send  them  sorowe  and  shame! 

That  cat  especyally 
That  slew  so  cruelly 
My  lytell  pretty  sparowe.^ 

Les  pachas  aiment  les  tigres;  moi  j’aime  les  chats,”  wrote  Theophile  Gau- 
tier; ” les  chats  sont  les  tigres  des  pauvres  diables.  Hormis  les  chats,  je 
n’aime  rien.  . . 

® Canning  probably  wrote  the  first  bird-poem  in  which  the  sympathy  lies 
with  the  cat; 

Tell  me,  tell  me,  gentle  Robin, 

What  is  it  sets  thy  heart  a-throbbing? 

Is  it  that  Grimalkin  fell 

Hath  killed  thy  father  or  thy  mother, 

Thy  sister  or  thy  brother. 

Or  any  other? 


249 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Chaucer  writes: 

For  whoso  wolde  senge  a cattes  skyn, 

Thenne  wolde  the  cat  wel  dwellen  in  hir  in; 

And  if  the  cattes  skyn  be  slyk  and  gay. 

She  wol  nat  dwelle  in  house  half  a day. 

But  forth  she  wol,  er  any  day  be  dawed. 

To  shewe  hir  skyn,  and  goon  a-caterwawed. 

The  characters  of  Shakespeare  frequently  allude  to  the  cat, 
but  none  of  them  seems  to  be  her  friend.  We  can  bear 

A harmless  necessary  cat, 

which  is  not  entirely  a gnostic  view,  from  Shylock,  and  An- 
tonio’s 

For  all  the  rest. 

They’ll  take  suggestion  as  a cat  laps  milk, 

in  The  Tempest  has  become  a commonplace  of  English  speech. 
Lady  Macbeth  says. 

Letting  I dare  not  wait  upon  I would. 

Like  the  poor  cat  i"  the  adage, 

and  the  picture  of  feline  caution  is  an  accurate  one,  but  Romeo 
cries. 

Every  cat  and  dog. 

And  little  mouse,  every  unworthy  thing, 

which  is  paralleled  by  the  remark  of  Cornelius  in  Cymbeline, 

Creatures  vile,  as  cats  and  dogs. 

Of  no  esteem. 

Tell  me  but  that. 

And  I’ll  kill  the  cat. 

But  stay,  little  Robin,  did  you  ever  spare 
A grub  on  the  ground  or  a fly  m the  air? 

No,  that  you  never  did.  I’ll  swear ; 

So  I won’t  kill  the  cat; 

T hat’s  flat. 

Raoul  Gineste  also  takes  the  part  of  the  cat  in  Le  Serin. 

250 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

We  may  at  least  be  glad  to  find  dogs  included  in  this  diatribe. 
Lysander  shouts  at  Hermia: 

Hang  offj  thou  cat,  thou  burr:  vile  thing,  let  loose! 

And  Bertram  says  of  Parolles  in  All’s  JVell: 

I could  endure  anything  before  but  a cat,  and  now  he's  a cat  to  me, 

and  later: 

He  is  more  and  more  a cat, 
and  again: 

He's  a cat  still. 

It  Is  only  in  Macbeth  that  one  gets  a portent  of  the  mystery 
of  the  cat;  only  in  Macbeth  that  Shakespeare  seems  to  realize 
the  relation  of  puss  to  the  occult. 

Thrice  the  brinded  cat  hath  mewed 

is  the  line  that  saves  Shakespeare. 

Pope  refers  casually  to  the  practice,  prevalent  then  as  now, 
of  leaving  money  to  cats,  in  the  line, 

endow  a college  or  a cat. 

George  Tuberville  wishes  he  were  a cat  so  that  he  could 
protect  his  mistress  from  mice: 

The  Mouse  should  stand  in  Feare, 

So  should  the  squeaking  Rat; 

All  this  would  I doe  if  I were 
Converted  to  a Cat. 

The  fabulists,  of  course,  regard  all  animals  from  the  moral 
point  of  view.  Under  the  circumstances  the  cat  may  be  said 
to  come  off  well.  In  Edward  Moore’s  fable,  “ The  Farmer, 
the  Spaniel,  and  the  Cat,”  the  dog  complains  because  the  cat  is 
given  food: 


251 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

They  only  claim  a right  to  eat. 

Who  earn  by  services  their  meat. 

Whereupon,  in  the  very  best  Rollo  book  style : 

I own  {with  meekness  Puss  reply’d) 

Superior  merit  on  your  side; 

Nor  does  my  breast  with  envy  swell. 

To  find  it  recompens'd  so  well; 

Yet  I,  in  what  my  nature  can. 

Contribute  to  the  good  of  man. 

Whose  claws  destroy  the  pilfring  mouse? 

Who  drives  the  vermin  from  the  house? 

Or,  watchful  for  the  lab'ring  swain. 

From  lurking  rats  secures  the  grain? 

From  hence,  if  he  awards  bestow. 

Why  should  your  heart  with  gall  o’ erflow? 

Why  pine  tny  happiness  to  see. 

Since  there’s  enough  for  you  and  me? 

Thy  words  are  just,  the  Farmer  cry’d. 

And  spurn’d  the  snarler  from  his  side. 

Gay  wrote  three  fables  about  the  cat  and  in  two  of  them,  “ The 
Rat-catcher  and  the  Cats  ” and  “ The  Man,  The  Cat,  the 
Dog,  and  the  Fly,”  he  treats  of  puss  from  the  same  utilitarian 
point  of  view.  But  in  “ The  Old  Woman  and  Her  Cats,”  in 
which  he  touches  on  the  subject  of  witchcraft,  he  plunges  a 
little  deeper  into  his  theme: 

A wrinkled  Hag,  of  wicked  fame. 

Beside  a little  smoky  flame 

Sat  hov’ring,  pinch’d  with  age  and  frost; 

Her  shrivell’d  hands,  with  veins  embossed. 

Upon  her  knees  her  weight  sustain. 

While  palsy  shook  her  crazy  brain: 

She  mumbles  forth  her  backward  pray’rs. 

An  untam’d  scold  of  fourscore  years. 

About  her  swarm’d  a num’rous  brood 
Of  Cats,  who  lank  with  hunger  mew’d. 

252 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Teas’d  with  their  cries j her  choler  grew. 

And  thus  she  sputter’d:  Hence,  ye  crew. 

Fool  that  I was,  to  entertain 

Such  imps,  such  fiends,  a hellish  train! 

Had  ye  been  never  hous’d  and  nurs’d, 

I,  for  a witch,  had  ne’er  been  curs’d. 

To  you  I owe,  that  crowds  of  boys 
tv orry  me  with  eternal  noise; 

Straws  laid  across,  my  pace  retard; 

The  horse-shoe’s  nail’d  {each  threshold’s  guard)  ; 

The  stunted  broom  the  wenches  hide. 

For  fear  that  I should  up  and  ride. 

Tabby’s  reply  is  the  wail  of  all  the  cats  of  the  middle  ages: 

’Tis  infamy  to  serve  a hag; 

Cats  are  thought  imps,  her  broom  a nag; 

And  boys  against  our  lives  combine. 

Because,  ’tis  said,  your  cats  have  nine. 

In  Peter  Pindar’s  “ Ode  to  Eight  Cats  ” the  poet  wishes 
he  too  were  a cat  for  somewhat  the  same  reason  that  Walt 
Whitman  exalts  the  animals,  because  they  do  not  need  lawyers 
and  preachers  and  furniture.  While  these  stanzas  are,  like 
so  much  of  English  verse  concerning  puss,  purely  external, 
they  have  humour  and  a certain  limited  kind  of  observation 
and  as  they  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  other  cat  books  or 
anthologies  I will  quote  them  here,  omitting  the  four  moraliz- 
ing verses : 

AN  ODE  TO  EIGHT  CATS 
Belonging  to  Israel  Mendez,  a Jew 

Scene:  The  street  in  a country  town;  Time:  Midnight;  The 

poet  at  his  chamber  window. 

Singers  of  Israel,  O ye  singers  sweet, 

tVho  with  your  gentle  mouths  from  ear  to  ear. 

Pour  forth  rich  symphonies  from  street  to  street. 

And  to  the  sleepless  wretch,  the  night  endear! 

253 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

LOj  in  rny  shirt,  on  you  these  eyes  I fix. 

Admiring  much  the  quaintness  of  your  tricks! 

Your  friskings,  crawlings,  squalls,  I much  approve; 

Your  spittings,  pawings,  high-raised  rumps, 

Swelled-tails  and  Merry-Andrews  jumps. 

With  the  wild  ministrelsy  of  rapturous  love. 

How  sweetly  roll  your  gooseberry  eyes. 

As  loud  you  tune  your  amorous  cries. 

And  loving,  scratch  each  other  black  and  blue! 

No  boys  in  wantonness  now  bang  your  backs. 

No  curs,  nor  fiercer  mastiffs,  tear  your  flax. 

But  all  the  moonlight  world  seems  made  for  you. 

* * * * * 

Good  gods!  Ye  sweet  love-chanting  rams! 

How  nimble  are  you  with  your  hams 

To  mount  a house,  to  scale  a chimney  top. 

And  peeping  from  that  chimney  hole. 

Pour  in  a doleful  cry,  the  impassioned  soul. 

Inviting  Miss  Grimalkin  to  come  up: 

Who,  sweet  obliging  female,  far  from  coy. 

Answers  your  invitation  note  with  joy. 

And  scorning  "midst  the  ashes  more  to  mope; 

Lo!  borne  on  Love’s  all-daring  wing 
She  mounteth  with  a pickle-herring  spring. 

Without  the  assistance  of  a rope. 

Dear  mousing  tribe,  my  limbs  are  waxing  cold  — 

Singers  of  Israel  sweet,  adieu,  adieu! 

I do  suppose  you  need  now  to  be  told 

How  mnch  I wish  that  I was  one  of  you. 

No  feline  poem  is  better  known  than  Thomas  Gray’s  “ On 
the  death  of  a favourite  cat,  drowned  in  a tub  of  gold-fishes,” 
but  Gray  again  only  deals  in  externals.  “ Demurest  of  the 
tabby  kind,”  the  pensive  Selima  is  drawn  with  the  broadest 
strokes.  The  poem  is  graceful  but  it  can  be  said  of  it  that  it 

254 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

scarcely  scratches  the  surface  of  the  subject  of  cats.  William 
Cowper’s  two  cat  poems,  in  one  of  which  there  occurs  a catas- 
trophe * much  like  that  around  which  “ The  Bride  of  the 
Mistletoe  ” is  built,  are  still  external  but  they,  too,  are  very 
pleasing.  The  picture  of  the  kittens  playing  with  the  forked 
tongue  of  the  viper  is  charming  and  “ The  Retired  Cat  ” al- 
most tastes  of  the  mystic  flavour.  There  is  something  in- 
tensely feline  in  the  description  of  the  poet’s  cat: 

Sometimes  her  ease  and  solace  sought 
In  an  old  empty  watering-pot; 

There  wanting  nothing  save  a fan. 

To  seem  some  nymph  in  her  sedan, 

A pparelVd  in  exactest  sort. 

And  ready  to  be  borne  to  Court. 

One  of  Matthew  Prior’s  poems  to  a cat  is  a version  of  the 
Aesop  Fable  which  relates  the  story  of  the  cat  who  was 
changed  into  a woman  by  Venus.  His  “ Lines  on  a Reason- 
able Affliction,”  which  Graham  R.  Tomson  includes  in  her  col- 
lection, scarce  refer  to  the  cat  at  all.  I certainly  shall  not 
linger  over  the  sentimental  and  silly  verses  which  Rumpel- 
stilzchen  and  Hurlyburlybuss  are  alleged  to  have  written  to 
Robert  Southey.  No  cat,  it  would  seem,  could  write  so  ill. 
Nor  need  one  stop  to  admire  Tom  Hood’s  verses,  ” Puss  and 
Her  Three  Kittens.”  But  Joanna  Baillie  seems  to  have  been 
trembling  on  the  verge  of  the  discovery  of  the  psychic  nature 
of  the  cat.  In  her  poem  she  describes  a kitten  at  play  with 
exquisite  felicity  and  she  asks: 

Whence  hast  thou  then,  thou  witless  Puss, 

The  magic  power  to  charm  us  thus? 

Is  it,  that  in  thy  glaring  eye. 

And  rapid  movements  we  descry. 

While  we  at  ease,  secure  from  ill, 

^ Frangois  Coppee  once  remarked  that  all  cats  die  a tragic  death.  “ There  is 
not,”  he  said,  “a  single  case  on  record  of  a cat  who  died  in  his  bed!” 

255 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

The  chimney  corner  snugly  fill, 

A lion  darting  on  his  prey? 

A tiger  at  his  ruthless  play? 

Wordsworth  sings  of  a “ kitten’s  busy  joy.”  Shelley  was 
surely  not  inspired  when  he  wrote  his  lines  on  an  esurient  cat 
and  Keats’s  sonnet,  in  the  nature  of  a query  to  his  cat,  is  very 
unimaginative.  The  poet  is  content  to  ask  how  many  frays 
puss  has  fought,  how  many  rats  and  mice  he  has  captured. 
A subtler  artist  would  have  sought  more  occult  information, 
asked  concerning  the  temples  of  the  Nile  and  the  Witches’ 
Sabbath,  asked  of  Cardinal  Wolsey  and  the  Archbishop  of 
Taranto,  asked  of  Victor  Hugo  and  Madame  Deshoulieres 
and  the  doors  of  Isaac  Newton. Landor  reasons  with  his 
Chinchinillo  in  the  matter  of  pigeon-slaughter,  apparently  with 
small  result: 

I doubt  his  memory  much,  his  heart  a little. 

And  in  some  minor  matters  {may  I say  it?) 

Could  wish  him  rather  sager. 

This  from  the  man  who  spoiled  a cook  and  a bed  of  violets 
simultaneously!  C.  S.  Calverley’s  “Sad  Memories”  are  an 
impertinent  invasion  of  the  sacred  arcane  mysteries  of  the  cat 
mind,  about  which  the  poet,  of  course,  proves  that  he  knows 
nothing.  We  need  not  pause  over  Tennyson’s  verses,  “ The 
Spinster’s  Sweet-arts  ” but  pass  on  to  the  modern  writers  who, 
it  would  seem,  are  more  conversant  with  the  mystic  essence  of 
the  cat  than  their  earlier  brethren.®  Mr.  A.  C.  Benson,  to  be 

® Isaac  Newton  had  a large  hole  cut  in  his  door  for  his  old  cat  and  a small 
one  for  his  kittens!  These  cat  doors,  which  afford  easy  egress  or  ingress  to 
the  animal,  still  exist  in  some  Andalusian  towns,  according  to  Somerset 
Maugham  (“The  Land  of  the  Blessed  Virgin”;  Heinemann;  1905).  Their 
disappearance  in  England  and  France  is  proof,  according  to  Miss  Repplier, 
of  the  advanced  esteem  in  which  the  cat  is  held,  for  now  people  open  and 
shut  doors  for  her  when  she  asks  to  get  in  or  out. 

® This  is  probably  due  to  French  influence.  The  modern  English  poets  may 
have  studied  Baudelaire. 


256 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

sure,  falls  in  with  the  dog-lovers  in  his  apostrophe  to  the  pan- 
ther of  the  hearth : 

Cold  eyeSj  sleek  skin,  and  velvet  paws. 

You  win  my  indolent  applause. 

You  do  not  win  my  heart. 

We  really  must  go  back  to  Matthew  Arnold,  for  it  is  in  his 
picture  of  Atossa  that  the  cat  enters  her  great  period  in  Eng- 
lish poetry.  Here  the  poet  almost  achieves  a French  under- 
standing of  the  cat: 

Cruel,  but  composed  and  bland. 

Dumb,  inscrutable,  and  grand; 

So  Tiberius  might  have  sat. 

Had  Tiberius  been  a cat. 

Mr.  Swinburne’s 

Stately,  kindly,  lordly  friend. 

Condescend 

Here  to  sit  by  me,  and  turn 
Glorious  eyes  that  smile  and  burn. 

Golden  eyes,  lovers  lustrous  meed. 

On  the  golden  page  I read. 

is  perhaps  a little  sentimental,  but  Richard  Garnett’s  “ Mari- 
gold ” is  magnificent: 

She  moved  through  the  garden  in  glory,  because 
She  had  very  long  claws  at  the  end  of  her  paws. 

Her  back  was  arched,  her  tail  was  high, 

A green  fire  glared  in  her  vivid  eye; 

And  all  the  Toms,  though  never  so  bold. 

Quailed  at  the  martial  Marigold. 

But  no  other  English  poet,  it  seems  to  me,  has  so  well  sounded 
the  depths  of  cat  nature,  so  well  suggested  the  soul  of  the 
mystic  mammal,  as  Graham  R.  Tomson  (Mrs.  Rosamund 
Ball  Marriott-Watson)  in  her  three  verses.  The  plea  to  the 
puss  in  another  world: 


257 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Nor,  though  Persephone's  own  Puss  you  be. 

Let  Orcus  breed  oblivion  — of  me, 

is  irresistibly  appealing;  so  is  the  description  in  “ Arsinoe’s 
Cats  ” : 

A little  lion,  small  and  dainty  sweet 
{For  such  there  be!) 

With  sea-grey  eyes  and  softly  stepping  feet. 

The  sonnet  to  the  Chat  Noir  is  Baudelairean  in  its  harmonies, 
and  although  like  the  others,  it  has  been  often  quoted,  I make 
no  apology  for  reprinting  it: 

Half  loving-kindliness  and  half  disdain. 

Thou  comest  to  my  call  serenely  suave. 

With  humming  speech  and  gracious  gestures  grave. 

In  salutation  courtly  and  urbane: 

Yet  must  I humble  me  thy  grace  to  gain  — 

For  wiles  may  win  thee,  but  no  arts  enslave. 

And  nowhere  gladly  thou  abidest  save 

Where  naught  disturbs  the  concord  of  thy  reign. 

Sphinx  of  my  quiet  hearth!  who  deignst  to  dwell 
Friend  of  my  toil,  companion  of  mine  ease. 

Thine  is  the  lore  of  Ra  and  Rameses; 

That  men  forget  dost  thou  remember  well. 

Beholden  still  in  blinking  reveries. 

With  sombre  sea-green  gaze  inscrutable. 

William  Watson’s  “ great  Angora  . . . throned  in  monumen- 
tal calm  . . . immobile,  imperturbable,”  too,  sticks  in  the 
memory. 

American  poets  do  not  all  come  off  very  well  in  their  cat 
poems.  Bret  Harte’s  ” Miss  Edith’s  Modest  Request  ” is  not 
inspired;  it  might  have  been  written  by  anybody  for  any  news- 
paper. Nor  can  I find  much  to  delight  me  in  the  “ Two 
Cats  ” of  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox,  although  the  lady  herself 

258 


J. 


( 


“ A LITTLE  LION.  SMALL  AND  DAINTY  SWEET  ” 
From  a copyright  photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

was  a passionate  felinophile.  Her  mother  treated  cats  rudely 
and  used  to  throw  them  out  of  doors  at  night.  Little  Ella 
protested:  “Put  him  out  a-walkin’,  mama,  put  him  out 

a-walkin’.”  Somewhat  later  in  life  Mrs.  Wilcox  (then  Miss 
Wheeler)  wrote  a song  called,  “ Mother,  Bring  my  Little 
Kitten.”  “ It  was  supposed,”  Mrs.  Wilcox  explains  in  her 
priceless  book,  “ The  Worlds  and  I,”  “ to  be  a dying  child 
asking  for  her  pet,  which  she  feared  she  might  not  meet  in 
heaven.  It  was  mere  sentimental  stuff,  of  no  value,  of  course. 
But  the  ‘ Funny  Man’  on  the  Waukesha  Democrat  (I  think 
that  was  the  paper)  poked  much  fun  at  me,  and  said  I ought 
to  follow  my  song  with  another,  ‘ Daddy,  do  not  drown  the 
puppies.’  ” Mrs.  Wilcox  took  the  suggestion  as  a cat  laps 
milk  and  published  the  new  poem  in  one  of  the  Wisconsin 
papers.  The  refrain  ran  as  follows: 

Sav6j  ohj  save  one  puppy j daddy. 

From  a fate  so  dark  and  grim  — 

Save  the  very  smallest  puppy  — 

Make  an  editor  of  him. 

Mrs.  Wilcox  adds  that  her  brother  Ed  liked  these  lines  better 
than  any  others  she  ever  wrote.  I am  inclined  to  believe  that 
Ed  exhibited  excellent  literary  judgment. 

However  I do  not  wish  to  speak  unkindly  of  journalistic 
verse.  I found  the  following  stanzas  by  Miriam  Teichner  in 
a newspaper  and,  as  they  touch  a phase  of  our  subject  not 
elsewhere  dealt  with  in  this  volume,  I should  like  to  repro- 
duce them.  Any  one  who  has  eaten  in  these  restaurants  (and 
which  of  us  has  not?)  will  recall 

THE  TABLE  D’HOTE  CAT 

Now  are  we  come  on  troublous  times. 

So  I will  sing  unruffled  rhymes. 

This  one  is  written,  hoping  that 
The  table  d'hbte-ish  pussy  cat, 

259 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

That  creature  base  and  unrefined. 

Will  for  the  nonce,  distract  your  mind. 

Imagine  lives  {the  cat  boasts  nine) 

Spent  in  the  flow  of  thin  red  wine! 

See  where  the  cocktail-sired  bon  mot 
Inspires  the  luckless  beast  with  woe. 

Hedged  in  a brush  of  table  legs. 

See  how  she  dodges,  skulks  and  begs 
For  chicken  bones,  or  thin  and  pale. 

The  sardine’s  limp  anaemic  tail. 

It’s  wrong  — all  wrong.  That  cat  should  be 
Out  scouring  alleys,  blithe  and  free, 

A tiny  lion,  jungle  wise. 

Or  dreaming  with  ecstatic  eyes 
Before  a homey  hearth.  But  here 
In  this  too  hectic  atmosphere 
How  must  all  life  seem  stale  and  flat! 

Pity  the  table  d’hote-ish  cat. 

In  “ Feline  Philosophy  by  Thomas  Cat,”  Walter  Leon  Hess 
in  fifty  “ caterwauls  ” has  written  a long  epic  in  free  verse. 
There  is  little  about  the  cat  in  these  pages,  however;  Thomas 
tells  the  sordid  story  of  his  masters.  But  the  following  lines 
have  point : 

How  lucky  to  be  a cat 
Free  to  accept  or  — refuse 
What  is  offered! 

Oliver  Herford’s  drawings  are  perhaps  more  important 
than  his  verses,  but  he  occasionally  writes  some  very  charm- 
ing lines.  This  paraphrase,  for  example,  is  delightful: 

Kittens,  you  are  very  little. 

And  your  kitten  bones  are  brittle, 

If  you’d  grow  to  Cats  respected. 

See  your  play  be  not  neglected. 

260 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Smite  the  Sudden  Spool,  and  spring 
Upon  the  Swift  Elusive  String, 

Thus  you  learn  to  catch  the  wary 
Mister  Mouse  or  Miss  Canary? 

The  ending  is  quite  terrible: 

But  the  Kittencats  who  snatch 

Rudely  for  their  food,  or  scratch. 

Grow  to  Tomcats  gaunt  and  gory, — 

Theirs  is  quite  another  story. 

Cats  like  these  are  put  away 
By  the  dread  S.P.C.A. 

Or  to  trusting  Aunts  and  Sisters 
Sold  as  sable  Muffs  and  IV risters. 

“ The  Whole  duty  of  Kittens  ” should  be  engraved  in  every 
kitten’s  mind: 

When  Human  Folk  at  Table  eat, 

A Kitten  must  not  mew  for  meat. 

Or  jump  to  grab  it  from  the  Dish, 

(Unless  it  happens  to  be  fish). 

And  this  puts  the  question  very  neatly: 

To  Someone  very  Good  and  Just, 

Who  has  proved  worthy  of  her  trust, 

A Cat  will  sometimes  condescend  — 

The  Dog  is  Everybody’s  friend. 

One  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the  German  poets  devoted 
many  of  his  poems  to  cats,  a great  many  more  than  the  three 
that  Baudelaire  wrote  to  prove  to  an  Italian  pedant  that  he 
was  crazy.  And  the  eccentric  German  Jew  seems  to  have  been 
attached  to  the  little  animal.  I have  found  a description  of 

’’  This  and  the  following  two  examples  are  from  “ The  Kitten’s  Garden  of 
Verses”;  Charles  Scribner’s  Sons;  1911. 

261 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  poet’s  days  in  the  garret  of  his  uncle  “ The  only  creature 
living  there  being  a fat  Angora  cat  that  was  not  especially 
given  to  cleanliness  and  that  only  rarely  with  her  tail  wiped 
the  dirt  and  cobwebs  away  from  the  old  rubbish  that  was 
stored  there.  . . . But  my  heart  was  still  in  the  bloom  of 
youth.  . . . Everything  appeared  to  me  in  a fantastic  light, 
and  the  old  cat  herself  seemed  to  me  like  a bewitched  princess, 
who  might  perhaps  suddenly  be  set  free  from  her  animal 
shape,  and  show  herself  in  her  former  beauty  and  splen- 
dour. . . . But  the  good  old  fancy  times  are  over;  cats  re- 
main cats.” 

Another  German  poet,  Joseph  Victor  von  Scheffel,  has 
made  Hiddigeigei,  the  Tom  Cat,  one  of  the  principal  figures 
of  his  long  poem,  ” Der  Trompeter  von  Sakkingen.”  Aside 
from  his  dramatic  and  philosophic  importance  in  this  romance, 
Hiddigeigei  has  thirteen  songs.  A restaurant  in  Capri  has 
been  named  in  his  honour. 

But  it  has  remained  for  the  French  poet  to  capture  the 
grace,  the  idle  charm,  the  magnificence,  and  the  essential  mys- 
tery of  the  cat;  and  the  French  poet  has  seldom  failed  to  do 
so.  The  fabulists,  to  be  sure,  have  not  been  so  unerring. 
However,  they  have  followed  the  folklore  suspicion  that  the 
cat  is  a hypocrite  and  a successful  rogue  rather  than  the  Eng- 
lish fabulists’  idea  that  puss  is  a Sunday  School  teacher.  In 
Florian’s  Fable  of  the  ” Two  Cats,”  the  lazy  old  matou  says 
to  the  lean  laborious  tom, 

Voj  le  secret  de  reussir, 

C’est  d’etre  adroit,  non  d’etre  utile 

This  may  be  true.  Florian’s  more  celebrated  Fable  con- 
cerns the  “ Cat  and  the  Mirror.”  After  puss  has  examined 
both  sides  of  the  glass  in  an  effort  to  find  the  other  cat  he 
settles  back,  quite  satisfied. 

8 T.  W.  Evans;  “ The  Memoirs  of  Heinrich  Heine”;  George  Bell  and  Sons; 
London;  1884. 

262 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Que  m’importe,  dit-il,  de  percer  ce  myst'eref 
Une  chose  que  notre  esprit, 

A pres  un  long  travail,  nentend  ni  ne  saisit, 

Ne  nous  est  jamais  necessaire? 

This  Is  true  feline  philosophy. 

La  Fontaine  makes  the  cat  out  a monster,  a rogue,  a Till 
Eulensplegel,  but  he  has  been  praised  for  doing  so.  “ Ob- 
serve,” writes  M.  Feuillet  de  Conches  to  Champfleury,  “ how 
thorough  is  La  Fontaine’s  knowledge  of  the  cat.  Romin- 
agrobis  is  not  Rodllardus.  La  Fontaine  has  painted  the  cat 
as  he  studied  it,  under  all  Its  aspects,  and  with  the  skill  of  a 
master.  La  Fontaine  is  the  Homer  of  cats.  And  pray,  what 
was  La  Fontaine  himself,  if  not  a genuine  cat?  That  he 
loved  the  owners  of  the  house  I am  glad  to  believe,  but  he 
loved  the  house  itself  still  more.  He  was  always  curling  him- 
self up  in  it  again.  His  answer  to  M.  d’Hervart:  ‘ I was 

going  there!  ’ is  a cat’s  answer.”  The  Duchesse  de  Bouillon, 
a true  lover  of  cats,  asked  her  friend.  La  Fontaine,  to  give  her 
a copy  of  every  fable  In  which  her  favourite  animal  appeared. 
M.  Feuillet  de  Conches  found  these  precious  autographs  In 
an  old  garret  among  some  ancient  papers  of  the  de  Bouillon 
estate. 

The  French  precieuse,  Madame  Deshoulieres,  amused  her- 
self by  writing  a long  series  of  poems  in  epistolary  form  be- 
tween her  cat,  Grisette,  and  other  cats,  between  her  cat,  Gri- 
sette,  and  Cochon,  the  dog  of  M.  le  Marechal  le  Due  de 
Vivonne,  who  was  the  brother  of  Madame  de  Montespan. 
Passages  from  these  poems  are  delightful. 

® There  is  a well-known  and  oft-repeated  story  of  a cat  who,  for  the  first  time 
seeing  his  own  reflection  in  the  mirror,  tried  to  fight  it.  Meeting  with  resis- 
tance from  the  glass,  he  next  ran  behind  the  mirror.  Not  finding  the  object 
of  his  search,  he  again  came  to  the  front,  and  while  keeping  his  eyes  delib- 
erately fixed  on  the  image,  felt  around  the  edge  of  the  glass  with  one  paw, 
whilst  with  his  head  twisted  around  to  the  front  he  assured  himself  of  the 
persistence  of  the  reflection.  He  never  afterwards  condescended  to  notice  the 
mirror.  . . . My  cats  never  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  mirrors. 

263 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Tata,  the  cat  of  Madame  la  Marquise  de  Montgras  writes 
of  Grisette : 

Jamais  chatte  ne  fut  si  belle; 

Jamais  chatte  ne  me  pint  tant, 

and  Dom  Gris,  the  cat  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Bethune,  in 
his  love  letter  explains: 

Tout  matou  que  je  suis,  j'ai  Vame  delicate. 

Mittin,  the  cat  of  Mademoiselle  Bocquet,  charmingly  de- 
scribes Grisette: 

0?i  ne  vous  vit  jamais  souiller  vos  pattes, 

Innocentes  et  delicates, 

Du  sang  des  souris  et  des  rats. 

En  amour  vous  avez  les  plus  belles  manieres; 

Vous  n'allez  point,  par  des  cris  scandeleux, 

Promener  sur  les  toits  la  lionte  de  vos  feux, 

Ni  vous  livrer  aux  matous  des  gouttieres. 

And  Mittin’s  description  of  himself  is  irresistible: 

J’appuie  adroitement  ma  patte  sur  les  bras 
De  ceux  qui  sont  assis  a table. 

Si  leur  faim  est  inexorable, 

Ma  faim  ne  se  rebate  pas; 

Et,  d’un  air  toujours  agreable, 

Je  tire  du  moins  charitable 
Les  morceaux  les  plus  delicats, 

Qu  a la  fin  il  me  tend  d'une  main  liberale. 

Enfin,  quoique  je  sots  un  chat  des  mieux  nourris, 

Je  chasse  d’une  ardeur  qui  n eut  jamais  d’egale. 

Nul  matou  mieux  que  moi  ne  chasse  dans  Paris; 

Et  je  pretends  quun  jour  mon  amour  vous  regale 
D’une  hecatombe  de  souris.^^ 

Freely  translated  as  “Grisette  Dines”  the  first  few  lines  of  this  excerpt 
from  a long  poem  appear  in  Miss  Repplier’s  anthology,  “ The  Cat.”  But,  it  will 
be  observed  that  it  is  not  Grisette  who  dines. 

264 


“ JAMAIS  CHATTE  NE  FUT  SI  BELLE, 
JAMAIS  CHATTE  ME  PLUT  TANT  ” 


From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V.  Furness 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Beranger,  too,  is  interested  in  the  cat  in  love.  He  writes 
of  the  amorous  female  : 

Tu  reveilles  ta  maitresse, 

M.inette,  par  tes  long  cris; 

Est-ce  la  faim  qui  te  pressef 
Entends-tu  quelque  souris? 

Tu  veux  fair  de  ma  chambrette. 

Pour  courir  je  ne  sais  oil; 

Mia-mia-ou:  que  veut  Minettef 
Mia-mia-ou!  cest  un  matou.^^ 

But  of  all  Frenchmen,  Baudelaire  came  the  nearest  to  ap- 
preciating and  expressing  the  esoteric  nature  of  cats;  he  felt 
that  they  represented  a phase  of  the  occult  science.  His  three 
poems  to  cats  are  mystic  masterpieces  and  no  other  poet  has 
been  able  to  create  works  to  rival  them.  Of  Baudelaire’s 
love  for  pussies,  Gautier  writes:  “ As  I am  speaking  of  the 

individual  tastes  and  little  eccentricities  of  the  poet,  let  me  say 
that  he  adored  cats,  who  like  him,  are  fond  of  perfumes,  and 
easily  thrown  into  a kind  of  ecstatic  epilepsy  by  the  smell  of 
valerian.  He  loved  these  charming  creatures,  tranquil,  mys- 
terious, and  gentle,  with  their  electric  shudderings,  whose 
favourite  attitude  is  the  elongated  pose  of  sphinxes,  who  seem 
to  have  transmitted  their  secrets  to  them.  They  wander 
about  the  house  with  velvet  tread,  like  the  genius  of  the  place, 
or  come  and  sit  upon  the  table  near  the  writer,  keeping  com- 
pany with  his  thought,  and  gazing  at  him  out  the  depths  of 
their  dark  golden  pupils  with  an  intelligent  tenderness  and  a 
magic  penetration.  It  might  almost  be  said  that  cats  divine 

One  might  devote  a volume  to  the  study  of  the  love-habits  of  the  cat, 
which  are  cruel  and  fascinating.  It  is  diverting  to  know  that  once  mating  is 
accomplished  the  male  and  female  quarrel,  thus  setting  an  excellent  example 
that  is  followed  generally  by  the  human  race.  In  the  mating  process,  some- 
times with  blooded  cats  a matter  of  days,  both  male  and  female  often  refuse 
all  food!  The  soft  purring  call  of  the  female  is  more  amorous  than  the  cooing 
of  a dove. 


265 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  idea  which  descends  from  the  brain  to  the  tip  of  the  pen, 
and  that,  stretching  out  their  paws,  they  wished  to  seize  it  in 
its  passage.  They  like  silence,  order,  and  quietness,  and  no 
place  is  so  proper  for  them  as  the  study  of  a man  of  letters. 
With  admirable  patience  they  wait  until  he  has  finished  his 
task,  emitting  a guttural  and  rhythmic  purr  as  a sort  of  ac- 
companiment to  his  work.  From  time  to  time  they  gloss  with 
their  tongue  some  ruffled  spot  in  their  fur,  for  they  are 
clean,  fastidious,  coquettish,  and  permit  no  irregularities 
in  their  toilet,  but  always  In  a calm  and  discreet  way, 
as  If  they  were  afraid  to  distract  or  annoy.  Their 
caresses  are  tender,  delicate,  silent,  and  have  nothing  in 
common  with  the  noisy  and  gross  petulance  which  belongs 
to  dogs,  upon  whom  nevertheless,  has  been  bestowed  all  the 
sympathy  of  the  vulgar.  All  these  merits  were  fully  appreci- 
ated by  Baudelaire,  who  has  more  than  once  addressed  to  cats 
some  fine  bits  of  verse, — the  ‘ Fleurs  du  Mai  ’ contains  three, 
— and  often  he  has  them  flitting  across  his  compositions  as 
characteristic  accessories.  Cats  abound  in  the  verse  of  Baude- 
laire as  dogs  in  the  paintings  of  Paolo  Veronese,  and  are  a 
kind  of  signature.  I should  add  that  among  the  pretty  crea- 
tures, so  pleasant  by  day,  there  is  a nocturnal  side,  mysterious 
and  cabalistic,  which  is  very  seductive  to  the  poet.  The  cat 
with  his  phosphoric  eyes,  which  serve  him  as  lanterns,  and 
sparks  flying  from  his  back,  fearlessly  haunts  the  darkness, 
where  he  encounters  wandering  phantoms,  sorcerers,  alche- 
mists, necromancers,  resurrectionists,  lovers,  pickpockets,  as- 
sassins, drunken  patrols,  and  all  those  obscene  larvae  which 
sally  forth  and  do  their  work  only  at  night.  He  has  the 
air  of  having  heard  last  Sunday’s  sermon,  and  readily  rubs 
himself  against  the  lame  leg  of  Mephistopheles.  His  sere- 
nades under  the  balcony,  his  amours  on  the  rooftops, 
accompanied  with  cries  like  those  of  a strangled  child, 
lend  him  a passably  satanIc  aspect,  which  to  a certain 
point  justifies  the  repugnance  of  diurnal  and  practical 

266 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

minds,  for  whom  the  mysteries  of  Erebus  have  no  charm. 
But  a Dr.  Faust  in  his  cell,  encumbered  with  flasks  and 
instruments  of  alchemy,  will  like  always  to  have  a cat 
for  companion.  Baudelaire  himself  was  a voluptuous  cat, 
indolent,  with  velvety  ways,  and  full  of  force  in  his  fine  sup- 
pleness, fixing  upon  men  and  things  a look  of  restless  pene- 
tration, free,  voluntary,  hard  to  hold,  but  without  perfidy 
withal,  and  faithfully  attached  to  every  one  to  whom  he  had 
once  given  his  independent  sympathy.” 

Jules  Lemaitre,  Francois  Coppee,  Paul  Verlaine,  Joseph 
Boulmier,  and  Hippolyte  Taine  all  wrote  poems  about  cats. 
Verlaine’s  “ Femme  et  Chatte  ” is  nervous  and  electric  and 
should  have  been  set  to  music  by  Debussy.  We  must  thank 
Lemaitre  for  the  lines, 

et  je  salue  en  toi,  calme  penseur. 

Deux  exquises  vertus : scepticisme  et  douceur. 

Taine’s  twelve  sonnets  to  his  three  cats.  Puss,  Ebene,  and 
Mitonne,  were  written  in  the  fall  of  1883  and  were  not  in- 
tended for  publication.  After  his  death,  however,  they  ap- 
peared in  the  Literary  Supplement  of  the  “ Figaro  ” for 
March  ii,  1893,  without  the  authorization  of  the  writer’s 
heirs  and  executors.  They  have  not  been  included  in  his 
collected  works  and  as  a result  they  are  difficult  to  procure. 
Such  specimens  of  them  as  I have  been  able  to  find  may  be 
placed  with  the  very  best  cat  poems.  This  one,  for  instance, 
dedicated  to  Puss,  is  wholly  pleasing: 

L,e  plahir,  comme  il  vient;  la  douleur,  s"il  le  faut. 

Puss,  vous  acceptez  tout,  et  le  soleil  la-haut, 

Quand  il  finit  son  tour  dans  I’immensite  bleue, 

V ous  volt,  couchee  en  circle,  au  soir  comme  au  matin, 

Heureuse  sans  effort,  rhiqnee  au  destin, 

Lisser  nonchalamment  les  polls  de  votre  queue. 

12  From  Gautier’s  preface  to  “Fleurs  du  Mai,”  P.  33.  (Calmann-Levy ; 
Paris). 

267 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Charles  Cros’s  lines  are  likewise  adorable : 

Chatte  blanche,  chatte  sans  tache, 

Je  te  demande  dans  ces  vers 
Quel  secret  dort  dans  tes  yeux  verts, 

Quel  sarcasme  sous  ta  moustache? 

But  the  white  cat  without  a spot  refused  to  reply.  Cats  occa- 
sionally have  spoken  in  China,  the  South  of  France,  or  Alice’s 
Wonderland,  but  never  for  the  purpose  of  giving  their  secrets 
away.  Indeed  one  of  the  oldest  affinities  cats  have  with  alche- 
mists and  philosophers  is  their  capacity  for  keeping  secrets. 
Imagine  a frank  dog  present  at  the  discovery  of  the  magnum 
opus.  “ Gold!  Gold!  ” murmurs  the  delighted  alchemist,  and 
the  dog,  barking  with  delight,  jumps  on  his  master,  upsetting 
the  crucible  and  retort  and  destroying  the  secret.  But  the  cat 
would  gaze  through  his  half-closed,  sleepy  eyelids,  “ dumb, 
inscrutable,  and  grand.” 

Of  the  modern  French  writers  Raoul  Glneste  and  Alfred 
Ruffin  have  devoted  books  of  poems  to  cats  and  Lucie  Delarue- 
Mardrus  has  written  much  verse  which  shows  that  she  has  an 
affinity  with  the  mystic  beast.  The  following  lines  were  first 
quoted  (from  manuscript)  in  “ Claudine  s’en  va.”  I do 
not  know  that  they  have  appeared  elsewhere. 

POUR  LE  CHAT 

Chat,  monarque  furtif,  mysterieux  et  sage, 

Sont-ils  dignes,  nos  doigts  encombres  d’anneaux  lourds, 

De  votre  majeste  blanche  et  noire,  au  visage 
De  pierrerie  et  de  velours? 

“ An  intending  magus  shall  be  discreet  and  faithful;  he  shall  never  reveal 
what  he  has  been  told  by  a spirit.  Daniel  was  commanded  to  set  a seal  on 
several  matters;  Paul  was  forbidden  to  reveal  what  he  beheld  in  his  ecstasy. 
The  importance  of  this  ordination  cannot  be  exaggerated.”  Theosophia  Pneu- 
matica”;  Frankfort;  x686. 
i*P.  47- 


268 


THE  CAT  AND  THE  ALCHEMYSTICAL  CAULDRON 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  V,  Furness 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Votre  grace  s’ enroule  ainsi  qu’une  chenille; 

Vous  eteSj  au  toucher^  plus  brulant  qu’un  oiseau, 

Et,  seule  nudite,  votre  petit  museau 

Est  une  fleur  fraiche  qui  brille. 

Vous  avezj  quoique  rubanne  comme  un  sachet, 

De  la  ferocite  plein  vos  oreilles  noires, 

Quand  vous  daignez  crisper  vos  pattes  peremptoires 
Sur  quelque  inattendu  hochet, 

En  votre  petitesse  apaisee  ou  qui  gronde 
Rale  la  royaute  des  grands  tigres  sereins; 

Comme  un  sombre  tresor  vous  cachez  dans  vos  reins 
Toute  la  volupte  du  monde  . . . 

Mais,  pour  ce  soir,  nos  soins  vous  importent  si  peu 
Que  rien  en  votre  pose  immobile  n abdique : 

Dans  vos  larges  yeux  d’ or  cligne  un  regard  boudhique, 

Et  vous  vous  souvenez  que  vous  etes  un  Dieu. 

Madame  Delarue-Mardrus  has  also  written  an  apostrophe 
to  Maut,  the  goddess  with  the  head  of  a catd®  The  goddess 
responds  with  a “ surnaturel,  formidable  ronron: 

” O vous,  mes  soeurs,  je  suis  la  chatte-jemme. 

Je  possede,  de  par  ma  the,  plus  qu’une  dme, 

Reconnaissez  en  moi  votre  animalite. 

Adorez-moi!  Je  suis  I’instinct  et  son  mystere. 

Je  suis  I’amour,  le  charme  et  la  fatalite, 

Tant  qu’il  demeurera  des  femmes  sur  la  terre. 

Gineste  meets  the  cat  in  many  moods.  “ Conversion  ” is 
a satire  on  those  who  like  animals  when  they  find  them  useful. 
“ A cat,”  writes  Margaret  Benson,  “ must  either  have  beauty 
and  breeding,  or  it  must  have  a profession.”  Monsieur  Prud’- 
homme  went  further  than  this;  he  insisted,  apparently,  that 
all  cats  should  have  a profession. 


‘ Souffles  de  Tempete.’ 


269 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Monsieur  Prud’homme  a dit:  Je  natme  pas  le  chat; 

C^est  un  hre  cruel  et  traitre,  il  egratigne; 

Le  chien,  ami  de  I’homme,  est,  au  contraire,  digne 
De  toute  man  estime;  il  leche  qui  le  bat. 

Le  chat,  gourmand  fieffe,  ne  leche  que  le  plat, 

O’  est  un  voleur  subtil,  un  paresseux  insigne, 

Un  animal  d’humeur  fantasque  ou  bien  maligne, 

Un  coureur  sans  vergogne,  un  serviteur  ingrat. 

Or,  void  que  Prud’homme  est  prh  d’une  tendresse 
Subite  pour  le  chat  qu’il  flatte,  qu’il  caresse, 

Qu’il  couche  pres  de  lui,  qu’il  nourrit  a gogo; 

Sa  concierge  eclaira  d’un  mot  son  egoisme. 

Affirmant  que  les  chats  prennent  le  rhumatisme; 

Et  sa  personne  est  fort  sujette  au  lombago. 

Alfred  Ruffin,  too,  has  devoted  an  entire  book  to  poems 
about  cats.  The  following  lines  from  his  “ Le  Livre  des 
Chats”  are  entitled: 


LE  CHAT  EXILE 

Je  ne  me  suis  jamais  senti  fort  attriste 
Des  pleurs  que  verse  un  roi  sur  la  terre  etrangere: 
Ces  gens-la  regrettant  bien  plus  la  royaute 
Que  la  simple  patrie  a nous  autres  si  elide; 

Mais  un  honnete  chat  banni  de  son  foyer, 

Un  chat  qui  n’a  jamais  convoite  de  couronne, 

Sur  sa  juste  douleur  suit  mieux  m’apitoyer. 

Car  je  connais  le  prix  de  ce  qu’il  abandonne. 

L’asile  oil  I’enchainait  depuis  des  jeunes  ans 
Le  doux  et  fort  lien  des  libres  habitudes, 

Ces  murs  a le  froler  devenus  caressants, 

Ces  fentes  du  plancher,  objet  de  tant  d’ etudes, 

270 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

Ce  toit  ou  s'asseyant  il  baillait  pres  du  del, 

Ces  caves  dont  ses  yeux  eclairaient  le  mystere. 

Tout  cet  immeuble  enfin  dont  le  maitre  rdl 
C’etait  lui,  bien  plutbt  que  le  proprietaire, 

Voild  ce  quon  lui  prend!  pour  Quebec  ou  Chatou 
Dans  la  planche  ou  I’ osier,  une  main  assassine 
Emballe  miaulant  I" infortune  matou: 

Entendez-vous  gemir  I’arbre  quon  deracinef 

Ah!  I’amour  du  pays,  dont  I’humaine  raison 
Arbore  en  nos  drapeaux  la  noble  idoldtrie, 

C’est  Vinstinctif  amour  du  chat  pour  sa  maison: 

Les  chats  auraient  sans  Vhotnme  invente  la  patrie! 

Et  I’ animal,  au  seuil  de  son  logis  nouveau 
Vers  des  deux  inconnus  jetant  sa  plainte  vaine, 

Fournirait  pour  un  cadre  aussi  poignant  tableau 
Qu  Alighieri  pleurant  sur  les  bords  de  la  Seine. 

The  Epilogue  to  this  book,  too,  I feel  that  I must  permit  my 
readers  to  enjoy: 


Le  chat  est  beau  dans  un  salon, 

II  est  beau  dans  une  mansarde. 

Beau  sur  les  genoux  de  Ninon 
Comme  aux  pieds  d’une  carnpagnarde ; 

A son  aise  dans  tout  decor, 

C’est  un  hbte  aussi  presentable 
Sous  des  plafonds  lambrisses  d’or 
Que  sous  les  poutres  d’une  Stable; 

Et  tel  minet  qui  vit  le  jour 
Au  fond  d’une  arriere-boutique , 

Des  quon  le  produit  a la  cour 
y parait  un  prince  authentique. 

271 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Mats  le  chat  au  regard  des  sots 
Est  marque  de  plus  d’une  tare, 

Et  le  premier  de  ses  defauts 
C’est  de  nhre  pas  assez  rare. 

" Noble  et  beau,  soit,  mais  si  banal 
Quon  ne  le  vend  pas,  on  le  donnel 
Souvent  meme  on  jette  au  canal 
Ses  enfants  dont  ne  veut  personnel  ” 

Toujours  d’ailleurs  il  s'est  fait  tort 
Par  exces  de  bon  caractere: 

11  est  de  trop  facile  abord, 

Ce  noble  est  trop  egalitaire. 

A ccueillant  pour  tons  les  habits. 

Riche  ou  pauvre,  qui  veut  V embrasse ; 

Je  crois  meme  que  des  bandits 
II  ne  detourne  pas  sa  face. 

Mais  il  est  en  cela  pareil, 

Sur  la  terre  ou  sa  grace  abonde, 

Au  plus  grand  des  rois,  au  Soleil 
Qui  luit  gratis  pour  tout  le  monde! 

It  has  happened,  perhaps  naturally  enough,  that  some  of  the 
best  poems  on  cats  have  been  inspired  by  death.  When 
Joachim  du  Bellay’s  cat.  Belaud,  died  in  1558,  the  poet  wrote 
a very  long  epitaph  in  honour  of  his  little  friend.  It  is  a 
lovely  tribute : 

C’est  Belaud,  mon  petit  Chat  gris: 

Belaud,  qui  fut  par  avanture 
Le  plus  bel  oeuvre  que  Nature 
Fit  one  en  matiere  de  Chats: 

C’etoit  Belaud,  la  mart  aux  Rats, 

Belaud,  dont  la  beaute  fut  telle. 

Quelle  est  digne  d’etre  immortelle. 

272 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

He  describes  the  animal’s  physical  appearance,  his  character 
and  habits,  at  length.  Here  is  a pretty  passage : 

Mon  Dieu!  quel  passe-temps  c’etoit 
Quand  ce  Belaud  vire-voltoit, 

Folatre  au  tour  d’ une  pelotte? 

Quel  plaisir,  quand  sa  tete  sotie 
Suivant  sa  queue  en  mille  tours, 

D"un  ro  'uet  imitoit  le  cours! 

Ou  quand  assis  sur  le  derriere 
II  s" en  faisoit  un  jarretiere, 

Et  montrant  I’estomac  vein, 

De  panne  blanche  crespelu, 

Sembloit,  tant  sa  trogne  etoit  bonne, 

Quelque  Docteur  de  la  Sorbonne! 

Domenico  Balestieri’s  anthology  of  poems  in  several 
languages  devoted  to  the  memory  of  a single  cat  is  not  avail- 
able. George  Huddesford’s  mock-heroic  “ Monody  on  the 
Death  of  Dick,  an  Academical  Cat,”  is  easier  to  examine. 

Ye  Rats,  in  triumph  elevate  your  ears! 

Exult,  ye  Mice!  for  Fate's  abhorred  shears 
Of  Dick's  nine  lives  have  slit  the  catguts  nine; 

Henceforth  he  mews  'midst  choirs  of  Cats  divine! 

Thus  Huddesford  writes  and,  after  describing  the  variety  of 
cats  who  mourn  Dick’s  fall  he  says: 

Though  no  funereal  cypress  shade  thy  tomb. 

For  thee  the  wreaths  of  Paradise  shall  bloom. 

There,  while  Grimalkin's  mew  her  Richard  greets, 

A thousand  Cats  shall  purr  on  purple  seats. 

E'en  now  I see,  descending  from  his  throne. 

Thy  venerable  Cat,  O Whittington! 

The  kindred  excellence  of  Richard  hail. 

And  wave  with  joy  his  gratulating  tail. 

There  shall  the  worthies  of  the  whisker  d race 
Elysian  Mice  o'er  floors  of  sapphire  chase, 

273 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Midst  beds  of  aromatic  marum  stray. 

Or  raptur’d  rove  beside  the  Milky  Way. 

Kittens,  than  eastern  houris  fairer  seen. 

Whose  bright  eyes  glisten  with  immortal  green. 

Shall  smooth  for  tabby  swains  their  yielding  fur. 

And  to  their  amorous  mews,  assenting  purr;  — 

There,  like  Alcmena’s,  shall  Grimalkin  s son 
In  bliss  repose, — his  mousing  labours  done. 

Fate,  envy,  curs,  time,  tide,  and  traps  defy. 

And  caterwaul  to  all  eternity! 

There  is  perhaps  an  unwonted  strain  of  frivolity  in  these  lines 
which  is  not  entirely  lacking  in  the  following: 

Ci  repose  pauvre  Mouton, 

Que  jamais  ne  fut  glouton; 

J’espere  bien  que  le  roi  Pluton, 

Lui  donnera  bon  gite  et  crouton. 

But  the  epitaph  for  the  cat  of  Madame  Lesdiguieres,  inscribed 
on  his  monument,  is  charming,  wistful,  and  pathetic: 

Ci-git  une  Chatte  jolie: 

La  Maitresse  qui  naima  rien, 

L’aima  jusques  a la  folk; 

Pourquoi  le  dire?  on  le  voit  bien. 

Francois  de  la  Mothe  le  Vayer  who,  when  he  was  not  writing 
of  the  most  abstruse  matters,  found  it  agreeable  to  create 
sonnets  on  cats,  composed  an  epitaph  for  Marlemain,  the 
favourite  cat  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  du  Maine,  which  has 
been  translated  by  Edmund  Gosse. 

Puss  passer-by,  within  this  simple  tomb 
Lies  one  whose  life  fell  Atropos  hath  shred; 

The  happiest  cat  on  earth  hath  heard  her  doom. 

And  sleeps  for  ever  in  a marble  bed. 

Alas!  what  long  delicious  days  I’ve  seen! 

O cats  of  Egypt,  my  illustrious  sires, 

274 


THE  TOMB  OF  MADAME  DE  LESDIGUIERES’S  CAT 

Fro>n  an  engraring  in  Moncrif’s  Les  Chats 


\ 


.r' 

1 


i' 


I 


The  Cat  and  the  Poet 

You  who  on  altars,  bound  with  garlands  green, — 

Have  melted  hearts,  and  kindled  fond  desires, — 

Hymns  in  your  praise  were  paid,  and  offerings  too. 

But  Fm  not  jealous  of  those  rights  divine. 

Since  Ludovisa  loved  me,  close  and  true. 

Your  ancient  glory  was  less  proud  than  mine. 

To  live  a simple  pussy  by  her  side 
Was  nobler  far  than  to  be  deified. 

Ludovisa,  of  course,  was  the  duchess. 

These  French  epitaphs  are  filled  with  pity  and  tenderness 
and  almost  a divine  sympathy  with  cats.  All  the  epitaphs 
in  English  do  not  boast  these  qualities.  We  cannot,  for 
example,  think  too  highly  of  Whittier’s  effort: 

Bathsheba:  To  whom  none  ever  said  scat. 

No  worthier  cat 
Ever  sat  on  a mat 
Or  caught  a rat: 

Requies-cat. 

Clinton  Scollard’s  elegy  on  Peter,  aged  twelve,  is  an  ex- 
tended expression  of  pity  for  the  poet  himself  on  his  loss  of 
the  “ king  of  mousers,  who  no  longer  rubs  his  velvet  fur 
against  the  poet’s  trousers.”  Vachel  Lindsay’s  ” Dirge  for 
a Righteous  Kitten  ” is  better.  Gray’s  celebrated  gold-fish 
tub  catastrophe  may  be  taken  as  an  epitaph  in  spirit  and  so 
may  Sir  Frederick  Pollock’s  “ Tom  of  Corpus,”  In  a more 
robust  vein.  Christina  Rossetti  wrote  verses  entitled  ” On 
the  Death  of  a Cat,  a friend  of  mine  age  ten  years  and  a half.” 
A more  subtle  example  Is  the  following,  which  appeared  in  the 
“London  Star,”  November  3,  1795,  “imitated  in  English 
from  the  Latin  of  Dr.  Jortin: 

Worn  out  with  age  and  dire  disease,  a cat. 

Friendly  to  all  save  wicked  mouse  and  rat, 

Fm  sent  at  last  to  ford  the  Stygian  lake. 

And  to  the  infernal  coast  a voyage  make. 

275 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

Me  Proserpine  received  and  smiling  said: 

Be  blessed  within  these  mansions  of  the  dead. 

Enjoy  among  thy  velvet-footed  loves, 

Elysian’s  sunny  banks,  and  shady  groves!  " 

“But  if  I’ve  well  deserved  {O  gracious  Queen), 

If  patient  under  sufferings  I have  been. 

Grant  me  at  least  one  night  to  visit  home  again. 

Once  more  to  see  my  home  and  mistress  dear. 

And  purr  these  grateful  accents  in  her  ear: 

‘ Thy  faithful  cat,  thy  poor  departed  slave 
Still  loves  her  mistress,  e’en  beyond  the  grave.’  ’’ 

The  cat  may  be  said  to  have  a mystic  affinity  with  the  per- 
fect circle,  the  symbol  of  mystery,  without  beginning  and  with- 
out end.  Through  the  centuries  she  is  now  worshipped  or 
adored,  now  cherished  as  an  essential  of  the  household,  a 
mouse-enemy.  However  man  regards  the  cat  does  not  affect 
the  attitude  that  animal  has  towards  man,  which  remains 
gently  tolerant  at  best  and  aggressively  feral  at  worst.  The 
poet,  sometimes,  has  seized  this  superiority  of  the  cat  and 
exalted  it,  perfumed  it  with  exotic  words,  waved  the  Incense 
of  the  grand  phrase  before  It,  and  anointed  it  with  the  holy 
oil  of  inspiration.  The  poet,  alone,  can  feel  the  hallucina- 
tion of  the  circle.  However  it  is  not  of  any  poet  I speak. 
One  poet  alone,  perhaps,  has  sufficiently  comprehended  the 
true  significance  of  the  cat  to  give  his  comprehension  form, 
the  poet  of  the  “ Flowers  of  Evil.” 

Dans  ma  cervelle  se  promcne, 

Ainsi  qu’en  son  appartement, 

Un  beau  chat,  fort,  doux,  ct  charmant, 

Quand  il  miaule,  on  I’entcnd  a pcinc, 

Tant  son  timbre  est  tendre  et  discret; 

Mais  que  sa  voix  s’apaise  ou  gronde, 

Elle  est  toujours  riche  et  profonde, 

C'est  Id  son  charme  et  son  secret. 

276 


Chapter  Twelve:  Titerary  Men  Who 

Have  Toved  Cats 


Au  lieu  d’ un  os  rouge  quen  dtnant  je  te  jette. 

Si  mon  argent  devait  payer  ce  que  tu  vaux. 

Oh!  combien  envers  toi  serait  lourde  ma  dette, 

Aimable  inspirateur  de  mes  plus  chers  travaux! 

Alfred  Ruffin. 

Even  in  the  dark  ages  the  cat  was  the  friend  of  the  intelli- 
gent man,  for  the  sorcerers  and  alchemists  were  the  philoso- 
phers of  the  period  and  those  who  persecuted  sorcerers  and 
cats  were  the  philistines.  In  our  day  the  cat  is  as  essen- 
tial to  the  literary  workshop  as  he  was  formerly  to  the 
alchemystical  laboratory.  French  writers,  especially,  have 
made  a fetish  of  the  soft  and  independent  little  fellow  animal. 
Hardly  an  author  of  distinction  during  the  nineteenth  century 
in  Paris  who  did  not  surround  himself  with  harems  of  long- 
haired Persian  beauties.  Prosper  Merimee,  Theophile 
Gautier,  Victor  Hugo,  Charles  Baudelaire,  Paul  de  Kock, 
Andre  Theuriet,  Emile  Zola,  Joris  Karl  Huysmans,  Jules 
Lemaitre,  Pierre  Loti,  Octave  Mirbeau,  and  Anatole  France 
all  loved  cats.  Those  in  this  list  who  are  yet  alive  still  do 
love  them.  Maupassant  stands  out  as  a solitary  figure  op- 
posed to  the  cult,  for  I gather  from  his  rather  unsympathetic 
essay  ^ on  cats  that  he  neither  understood  nor  cared  for  them. 
The  others  revived  cat-worship,  for  which  there  are  sufficient 
reasons.  Dogs  are  noisy,  restless,  clumsy,  and  dirty.  As 
W.  H.  Hudson  has  remarked  they  are  useful  and  therefore 
should  be  relegated  with  other  useful  animals  to  their  proper 

1 “ Sur  les  Chats  ” in  the  volume  entitled,  “ La  Petite  Roque.” 

277 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

place  in  the  stables  and  the  fields.^  Two  or  three  dogs  about 
the  house  are  sufficient  to  distract  the  attention  and  to  claim 
one’s  time,  but  it  is  possible  to  endure,  nay  to  enjoy,  the  com- 
panionship of  seventeen  or  more  pussies,  especially  if  they 
are  aristocratic  pussies.  They  keep  themselves  faultlessly 
clean  and  have  no  odour.  They  walk  about  noiselessly. 
Persian  cats  seldom  mew  and  when  they  do  their  voices  are 
modulated  like  those  of  well-bred  people.  They  offer  a pleas- 
ing exterior  to  the  eye;  their  velvet  backs  invite  caresses. 
When  a man  is  tired  a cat  does  not  excite  his  nerves;  when 
he  is  rested  he  can  turn  to  puss  for  play.  It  is  but  fair  to 
state,  however,  that  the  cat  has  his  own  ideas  about  such 
matters.  “ When  I play  with  my  cat  who  knows  whether 
she  diverts  herself  with  me,  or  I with  her!  ” writes  Montaigne 

2 The  dog  with  all  his  new  propensities,  remains  mentally  a jackal,  above 
some  mammalians  and  below  others;  nor  can  he  outlive  ancient,  obscene  in- 
stincts which  become  increasingly  offensive  as  civilization  raises  and  refines  his 
master  man.  How  did  our  belief  in  the  mental  superiority  of  this  animal  come 
to  exist?  Doubtless  it  came  about  through  our  intimacy  with  the  dog,  in  the 
fields  where  he  helped  us,  and  in  our  houses  where  we  made  a pet  of  him, 
together  with  our  ignorance  of  the  true  character  of  other  animals.  In  the 
Orient  the  dog  is  an  unclean  animal.  His  instincts  still  persist.  He  may  be 
shut  up  in  an  atmosphere  of  opopanax  and  frangipani  for  twelve  hundred  years 
and  he  will  love  the  smell  of  carrion  still. 

The  moral  of  all  this  is,  that  while  the  dog  has  become  far  too  useful  for 
us  to  think  of  parting  with  it  — useful  in  a thousand  ways,  and  likely  to  be 
useful  in  a thousand  more,  as  new  breeds  arise  with  modified  forms  and  with 
new  unimagined  propensities  — it  would  be  a blessed  thing,  both  for  man  and 
dog,  to  draw  the  line  at  useful  animals,  to  put  and  keep  them  in  their  place, 
which  is  not  in  the  house,  and  to  value  them  at  their  proper  worth,  as  we  do 
our  horses,  pigs,  cows,  goats,  sheep,  and  rabbits. 

But  there  is  a place  in  the  human  heart,  the  female  heart  especially,  which 
would  be  vacant  without  an  animal  to  love  and  fondle,  a desire  to  have  some 
furred  creature  for  a friend  . . . and  this  love  is  unsatisfied  and  feels  itself 
deprived  of  its  due  unless  it  can  be  expressed  in  the  legitimate  mammalian 
way,  which  is  to  have  contact  with  its  object,  to  touch  with  the  fingers  and 
caress.  Fortunately  such  a feeling  or  instinct  can  be  amply  gratified  without 
the  dog.  W.  H.  Hudson  in  “ The  Great  Dog-Superstition.”  Goethe  was 
among  those  who  hated  dogs  and  Mephistopheles  appeared  to  Faust  in  the  form 
of  a poodle. 


278 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

in  an  essay  ^ vindicating  natural  theology  from  the  objections 
of  some  of  his  opponents.  “ We  entertain  one  another  with 
mutual  follies,  struggling  for  a garter;  and  if  I have  my  time 
to  begin  or  to  refuse,  she  also  has  hers.  It  is  because  I cannot 
understand  her  language  that  we  agree  no  better;  and  perhaps 
she  laughs  at  my  simplicity  in  making  sport  to  amuse  her.” 

It  is  perfectly  possible  (a  fact  which  I have  proved  scores 
of  times  myself)  to  work  not  only  with  a cat  in  the  room,  but 
with  a cat  on  one’s  shoulder  or  in  one’s  lap.  In  a draughty 
room,  indeed,  the  cat  makes  a superior  kind  of  paper-weight ! 
Cats,  to  be  sure,  love  to  play  on  tables  with  loose  papers  and 
pens,  but  a little  care  will  keep  them  from  doing  damage,  and 
how  welcome  is  the  soft  paw  tap  on  the  pen  with  the  look  of 
surprise  that  invariably  follows,  to  the  tired  writer. 

As  an  inspiration  to  the  author  I do  not  think  the  cat  can 
be  over-estimated.  He  suggests  so  much  grace,  power,  beauty, 
motion,  mysticism.  The  perfect  symmetry  of  his  body  urges 
one  to  achieve  an  equally  perfect  form.  His  colour  and  his 
line  alone  would  serve  to  give  any  imaginative  creator  material 
for  several  pages  of  nervous  description;  on  any  subject,  mind 
you,  not  necessarily  on  the  cat  himself.  As  for  his  intelligence, 
his  occult  power,  they  are  so  remarkable  that  I sometimes  feel 
convinced  that  true  cat-lover  authors  aie  indebted  even  more 
deeply  than  they  believe  to  “ cats  of  ebony,  cats  of  flame  ” for 
their  books.  The  sharp,  but  concealed  claws,  the  contract- 
ing pupil  of  the  eye,  which  allows  only  the  necessary  amount 
of  light  to  enter,  the  independence,  should  be  the  best  of  models 
for  any  critic;  the  graceful  movements  of  the  animal  who 
waves  a glorious  banner  as  he  walks  silently  should  stir  the  soul 
of  any  poet.  The  cat  symbolizes,  indeed,  all  that  a good 
writer  tries  to  put  into  his  work.  I do  not  wonder  that  some 
writers  love  cats;  I am  only  surprised  that  all  writers  do  not 
love  cats. 

There  is  another  explanation  for  the  almost  general  fasci- 

^ “ Apologie  de  Raimond  Sebond.” 

279 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

nation  the  cat  has  for  the  literary  man.  Writers  as  a class 
are  irritable,  temperamental,  captious,  and  sensitive.  They 
find  in  the  soft  grace,  the  urbanity,  the  reserve  and  the  dignity 
of  the  cat  exactly  the  softening  qualities  they  require  to  smooth 
the  ruggedness  of  life.  Indeed  the  cat  is  as  nearly  as  possible 
what  many  a writer  would  like  to  be  himself. 

Some  writer’s  cats  have  been  celebrated  so  often  that  I see 
small  occasion  for  giving  them  much  space  in  this  volume. 
Dr.  Johnson’s  Hodge,  for  instance,  who  ate  oysters  and  an- 
noyed Boswell.  If  it  had  not  been,  indeed,  that  Boswell  was 
by  way  of  being  ailurophobic,  we  should  doubtless  have  heard 
more  about  Hodge  who  was  one  of  the  good  doctor’s  joys. 
Nor  need  we  linger  over  Scott’s  Hinse  of  Hinsefield,  for  a 
fondness  for  cats  came  late  in  the  life  of  the  author  of 
“ Waverley,”  at  heart  a dog-lover.  But  it  is  worth  while  to 
note  Scott’s  account  of  his  visit  to  the  Archbishop  of  Taranto 
at  Naples,  “ a most  interesting  old  man,  whose  foible  is  a 
passion  for  cats,”  Sir  Walter  was  delighted  with  the  ecclesi- 
astical pets.  ” One  of  them,”  he  wrote  in  his  journal,  “ is  a 
superb  brindled  Persian,  a great  beauty,  and  a particular 
favourite.  I remember  seeing  at  Lord  Yarmouth’s  house  a 
Persian  cat,^  but  not  so  fine  as  the  Bishop’s.”  Scott  was  not 
the  only  traveller  who  described  his  meeting  with  these  cats. 
Sir  Henry  Holland,  lamenting  the  death  of  his  friend,  the 
Archbishop,  wrote,  “ His  cat  and  the  Archbishop  sitting  to- 
gether as  they  generally  did,  made  a picture  of  themselves,  the 
former  looking  the  more  austere  theologian  of  the  two.” 
And  I.ady  Morgan’s  report  is  irresistible : ” The  first  day  we 

had  the  honour  of  dining  at  the  palace  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Taranto  at  Naples,  he  said  to  me,  ‘ You  must  pardon  my  pas- 
sion for  cats,  but  I never  exclude  them  from  my  dining  room 
and  you  will  find  they  make  excellent  company.’  Between  the 
first  and  second  courses,  the  door  opened,  and  several  enor- 


* In  the  early  nineteenth  century  Persian  cats  were  comparatively  rare  in 
England. 


280 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

mously  large  and  beautiful  Angora  cats  were  introduced  by  the 
names  of  Pantalone,  Desdemona,  Otello,  etc.  They  took 
their  places  on  chairs  near  the  tables,  and  were  as  silent,  as 
quiet,  as  motionless,  and  as  well  behaved  as  the  most  hon-ton 
table  in  London  could  require.  On  the  Bishop  requesting 
one  of  the  chaplains  to  help  the  Signora  Desdemona,  the  but- 
ler stepped  to  his  lordship,  and  observed,  ‘ My  lord,  la  Sig- 
nora Desdemona  will  prefer  waiting  for  the  roasts.’  ” 

Steele  makes  delicate  domestic  allusions  to  puss  in  “ The 
Tatler.”  His  first  actions  on  arriving  home  were  to  stir  his 
fire  and  to  stroke  his  cat.  Night  after  night  he  sat  between 
her  and  a little  dog.  “ They  both  of  them  sit  by  my  fire 
every  Evening  and  wait  my  return  with  Impatience;  and,  at  my 
entrance,  never  fail  of  running  up  to  me,  and  bidding  me 
Welcome,  each  of  them  in  its  proper  Language.  As  they  have 
been  bred  up  together  from  Infancy,  and  have  seen  no  other 
Company,  they  have  acquired  each  other’s  Manners;  so  that 
the  Dog  gives  himself  the  Airs  of  a Cat,  and  the  Cat,  in  several 
of  her  Motions  and  Gestures,  affects  the  Behaviour  of  the  little 
Dog.”  Byron  was  lavish  in  his  hospitality  to  animals.  At 
Ravenna  at  one  time  he  had  five  cats,  eight  dogs,  ten  horses, 
an  eagle,  a crow,  a falcon,  five  peacocks,  two  guinea  hens,  and 
an  Egyptian  crane.  Shelley  was  appalled  by  these  beasts 
and  birds  but  Byron  found  them  all  delightful.  Miss  Edge- 
worth  and  the  Brontes  kept  cats.  Carlyle  had  a soot-black 
kitten  who  begged  tidbits  from  him  at  the  table  and  ate  them 
on  the  floor  to  the  annoyance  of  Mrs.  Carlyle  who,  during  an 
absence,  wrote  to  her  maid,  Jessie:  “ As  long  as  she  attends 

Mr.  C.  at  meals  (and  she  doesn’t  care  a sheaf  of  tobacco  for 
him  at  any  other  time)  so  long  will  Mr.  C.  continue  to  give 
her  bits  of  meat  and  driblets  of  milk,  to  the  ruination  of  the 
carpets  and  hearthrugs.”  There  is  a familiar  story  about 
Dickens  and  a kitten  first  called  William,  but  later,  for  good 
reasons,  Williamina,  who  to  attract  the  author’s  attention, 
persisted  in  putting  out  a candle  by  which  he  was  reading. 

281 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

And  a portrait  exists  of  Mr.  Gladstone  reading  with  a cat  on 
his  knee. 

Jeremy  Bentham,  the  apostle  of  utilitarianism,  childless,  and 
wifeless,  lived  in  his  house  in  London,  surrounded  by  piles  of 
books.  Occasionally  he  was  visited  by  admirers  whom  he 
turned  away  or  treated  with  rudeness.  Madame  de  Stael,  for 
instance,  sought  an  interview,  and  sent  in  her  card.  Charm- 
ing Mr.  Bentham  wrote  on  it,  “ Mr.  Bentham  has  nothing  to 
say  to  Madame  de  Stael,  and  he  is  quite  certain  that  Madame 
de  Stael  can  have  nothing  to  say  to  him,”  and  sent  it  down  to 
her!  But  he  adored  his  pussy-cats.  His  favourite  was  a cat 
named  Langbourne,  who  afterwards  became  Sir  John  Lang- 
bourne,  and  still  later  the  Reverend  Sir  John  Langbourne, 
D.  D. 

John  Payne,  the  author  of  “ The  Masque  of  Shadows  ” and 
the  translator  of  Villon,  was  possessed  of  an  Angora  cat, 
named  Parthenopaeus,  who  was  accustomed  to  leap  on  Payne’s 
shoulders  and  coil  himself  half  way  round  his  neck.  Horace 
Walpole  delighted  in  cats  and  Gray’s  letter  to  him  on  the  death 
of  a beloved  beast  has  become  a classic.  In  1852  Thomas 
Griffiths  Wainewright,  the  writer-poisoner,  the  friend  of  Lamb, 
of  whom  W.  Carew  Hazlitt  and  Oscar  Wilde  have  written, 
died  of  apoplexy  with  his  cat  beside  him,  his  sole  living  com- 
panion, “ for  whom  he  had  evinced  an  extraordinary  affection.” 
Enough,  it  would  seem,  has  been  written  concerning  Southey’s 
cats  and  Matthew  Arnold’s  Atossa. 

George  Borrow  had  a deep  affection  for  animals.  One  of 
his  biographers,  Herbert  Jenkins,  says  that  his  horse,  Sidi 
Habismilk,  would  come  to  a whistle  and  would  follow  him 
about,  and  his  two  dogs  and  his  cat  would  do  the  same.  When 
he  went  for  a walk  the  dogs  and  the  cat  would  set  out  with 
him,  but  the  cat  would  turn  back  after  accompanying  him  for 
about  a quarter  of  a mile.  When  a favourite  cat  was  so  ill 
that  he  crawled  away  to  die  in  solitude.  Borrow  went  in  search 
of  him,  and  discovering  the  poor  creature  in  the  garden-hedge, 

282 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

carried  him  back  into  the  house,  laid  him  in  a comfortable 
place,  and  watched  over  him  until  he  died.  But  his  care  of 
the  much  persecuted  “ ecclesiastical  cat  ” at  Llangollen,  re- 
ferred to  elsewhere  in  this  volume,  is  the  best  evidence  of  his 
warm  feeling  for  pussies.  Walter  Pater,  it  seems,  had  two 
long-haired  Persians  to  grace  his  hearth  and  to  sit  at  his  table, 
and  Andrew  Lang  was  a passionate  felinophile.  His  black 
cat,  Mr.  Toby,  his  grey  Persian,  Master  of  Gray,  and  the  aban- 
doned Gyp  should  go  into  any  biographical  dictionary  of  cats. 

That  strange  intransigent  genius,  Samuel  Butler,  who, 
aside  from  his  own  writings  and  the  music  of  Handel,  found 
little  in  art  to  interest  him,  appears  to  have  been  fonder  of  cats 
than  he  was  of  men,  in  this  respect  resembling  Jeremy 
Bentham.  But  he  did  not  surround  himself  with  exotic  Per- 
sians after  the  fashion  of  many  another  author.  The  common 
cats  of  London  were  good  enough  for  him,  and  the  passages 
in  his  Note-Books  and  letters  which  refer  to  this  passion 
are  vibrant  with  interest.  Early  in  1873  Butler  seems 
to  have  presented  his  equally  eccentric  correspondent. 
Miss  Savage,  with  a cat,  which  she  called  after  the  name 
Butler  first  gave  to  the  pseudonymous  author  of  “ The  Fair 
Haven.”  “ I have  named  your  cat  ‘ Purdoe,’  a good  name  for 
a cat,”  Miss  Savage  writes  March  10,  1873.  “ I baptised  it 

with  ink.”  Miss  Savage  makes  reference  in  other  letters  to 
other  pussies,  Clara  and  Tybalt.  Butler  writes  to  her  Septem- 
ber 22,  1884,  “ My  cat  is  better,  and  though  it  looks  old  and 
battered  is  not  otherwise  amiss.  I am  extremely  sorry  to  hear 
of  your  bereavement.  Shall  you  cat  again?”  In  Novem- 
ber of  the  same  year  he  writes,  “ How  is  your  cat?  Mine  is 
so  stupid.  She  does  not  even  know  how  to  catch  rats  and 
mice.  Our  servant  says  she  catches  them  by  the  tail,  instead 
of  at  the  back  of  the  neck.  What  is  to  be  done  with  her?  ” 
Butler’s  friend,  Pauli,  was  in  the  habit  of  ringing  the  bell,  if 
he  saw  a cat  sitting  on  the  doorstep,  so  that  the  owner  might 
take  the  beast  in.  Butler  was  delighted  with  this  idea  and 

283 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

once  tried  it  himself,  but  made  the  mistake  of  waiting  until 
the  servant  opened  the  door  when  he  explained  why  he  had 
rung,  only  to  learn  that  the  cat  did  not  belong  to  these  people 
and  that  they  had  been  trying  very  hard  to  get  rid  of  it. 
In  the  meantime  Butler  seems  to  have  lost  his  own  cat.  He 
writes  to  Miss  Savage,  “ Don’t  offer  me  your  cat.  If  my  cat 
does  not  come  back  I don’t  mean  to  have  a cat  for  some  time. 
Jones  has  a real  love  of  a cat,  and  when  my  mice  get  bad  I 
will  fetch  it  down  for  a day  or  two.”  In  his  “ Note-Books  ” 
Butler  records  that  Prince,  Jones’s  cat,  once  picked  up  a little 
waif  in  the  court  and  brought  it  home,  ” and  the  two  lay  to- 
gether and  were  much  lovelier  than  Prince  was  by  himself.” 
It  was  this  same  Prince  that  caused  a child  who  was  playing 
with  him  one  day  to  exclaim,  ” Oh!  it’s  got  pins  in  its  toes,” 
an  incident  that  the  author  used  in  “ The  Way  of  All  Flesh.” 
By  the  fall  of  1885  not  only  Miss  Savage  but  Butler’s  sister 
seem  to  have  been  determined  that  he  should  ” cat  again.” 
He  writes  the  latter  on  October  21,  1885,  “No,  I will  not 
have  a Persian  cat;  it  is  undertaking  too  much  responsibility. 
I must  have  a cat  whom  I find  homeless,  wandering  about  the 
court,  and  to  whom,  therefore,  I am  under  no  obligations. 
There  is  a Clifford’s  Inn  euphemism  about  cats  which  the 
laundresses  use  quite  gravely:  they  say  people  come  to  this 
place  ‘ to  lose  their  cats.’  They  mean  that,  when  they  have 
a cat  they  don’t  want  to  kill  and  don’t  know  how  to  get  rid  of, 
they  bring  it  here,  drop  it  inside  the  railings  of  our  grass-plot 
and  go  away  under  the  impression  that  they  have  been  ‘ losing  ’ 
their  cat.  Well,  this  happens  very  frequently  and  I have 
already  selected  a dirty  little  drunken  wretch  of  a kitten  to  be 
successor  to  my  poor  old  cat.  I don’t  suppose  it  drinks  any- 
thing stronger  than  milk  and  water,  but  then,  you  know,  so 
much  milk  and  water  must  be  bad  for  a kitten  that  age  — at 
any  rate  it  looks  as  if  it  drank;  but  it  gives  me  the  impression 
of  being  affectionate,  intelligent,  and  fond  of  mice,  and  I be- 
lieve, if  it  had  a home,  it  would  become  more  respectable;  at 

284 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

any  rate  I will  see  how  it  works.”  It  seems  to  have  worked 
well,  for  six  months  or  so  later  we  read  that' the  cat  has  be- 
come a mother.  As  a wet-nurse  Butler  was  a failure.  He 
writes  to  his  sister  in  March  1886,  ” My  kittens  came  and  alas, 
went!  One  after  another  died  for  want  of  sufficient  nourish- 
ment. This  being  their  mother’s  first  confinement,  she  had 
forgotten  to  make  the  milk  necessary  to  feed  her  offsprings, 
and  so  one  after  another  starved  in  spite  of  all.  I could  do. 
I had  found  homes  for  three  out  of  the  four  and  was  sorry  to 
lose  them.  They  were  exceedingly  pretty  while  they  lasted, 
but  none  of  them  lived  as  long  as  four  days.  The  cat  fre- 
quently came  and  told  me  that  things  were  not  going  right,  and 
I soon  found  out  what  the  matter  was,  but  I could  not  do 
anything.”  Butler  is  perhaps  the  first  and  the  last  amateur 
cat-fancier  to  find  beauty  in  kittens  three  days  old.  As  for 
the  lack  of  nourishment,  probably  he  did  not  feed  the  mother 
enough;  in  any  case  it  never  seems  to  have  occurred  to  him 
that  kittens  can  be  raised  on  a bottle  as  easily  as  human  babies. 
In  October  1886  the  cat  became  a mother  again  while  he  was 
absent  on  a journey  and  he  writes  his  sister  that  the  kittens 
are  ” well  and  strong  but  as  wild  as  little  tigers  through  not 
having  been  habitually  caressed.”  ^ 

Like  Butler,  George  Moore  prefers  the  occidental  cat.  His 
cats,  however,  have  not  been  waifs  from  Clifford’s  Inn.  Cats 
appear  now  and  again  in  his  books  and  generally  a generous- 
sized tom  cat  wanders  about  his  home  in  Ebury  Street.  One 
of  these  is  described  in  “ Salve,”  ® “ a large,  grey  and  af- 
fectionate animal  upon  whom  Jane,  without  the  aid  of  a doctor, 
had  impressed  the  virtue  of  chastity,  so  successfully  that  he 
never  sought  the  she,  but  remained  at  home,  a quiet,  sober 
animal  that  did  not  drink  milk,'  only  water,  and  who,  when 

® These  examples  are  from  “Samuel  Butler”  by  Henry  Testing  Jones;  Mac- 
millan and  Co.;  London;  1919,  and  “The  Note-Books  of  Samuel  Butler.” 

® P.  25  ; English  edition. 

Many  common  cats  are  brought  up  on  milk  and  they  cannot  be  said  to 
dislike  it,  but  no  cat  breeder  would  think  of  giving  milk  to  his  cat,  and  a 

285 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

thrown  up  to  the  ceiling,  refrained  from  turning  round,  con- 
tent to  curl  himself  into  a ball,  convinced  that  my  hands  would 
receive  him  — an  animal  to  whom  I was  so  much  attached  that 
I had  decided  to  bring  him  with  me  in  a basket;  but  a few 
weeks  before  my  departure  he  died  of  a stoppage  in  his  en- 
trails, brought  about  probably  by  a morsel  of  sponge  fried 
in  grease  — a detestable  and  cruel  way  of  poisoning  cats 
often  practised  by  porters.  . . Moore  and  his  Jane  at- 
tempted in  every  conceivable  way  to  alleviate  Jim’s  sufferings, 
“ but  he  neither  ate  nor  drank  and  lay  down  stoically  to  die. 
Death  did  not  come  to  him  for  a long  while;  it  seemed  as  if 
he  would  never  drop  off,  and  at  last,  unable  to  bear  the  sight 
of  his  sufferings  any  longer,  Jane  held  his  head  in  a pail  of 
water,  and  after  a few  gasps  the  trial  of  life  was  over.  It 
may  have  been  that  he  died  of  the  fur  that  he  licked  away 
collecting  in  a ball  in  his  entrails,  and  that  there  is  no  cause 
for  me  to  regret  the  sovereign  given  to  the  porter  when  the 
great  van  drove  up  to  my  door  to  take  away  the  bedroom  and 
kitchen  furniture.”  Some  time  later  George  Moore  took  an- 
other cat  into  his  family,  a large  black  tom  cat  with  green 
eyes,  who  makes  his  appearance  in  an  interview  published  in 
the  ” Fortnightly  Review,”  ® an  interview  which  Moore  later 
worked  into  a chapter  for  “ Avowals.”  For  this  is  his  famous 
defence  of  censored  literature,  a defence  which  immediately 
preceded  his  decision  to  publish  his  own  books  privately  to 
avoid  all  future  arguments  with  the  Comstocks  and  Sumners, 
and  this  defence  was  originally  made  before  the  great  black 
tom  cat  of  Ebury  Street,  who  sat  as  judge  in  an  arm-chair, 
listening  gravely,  but  with  some  astonishment,  to  his  master’s 
plea,  blinked  his  green  eyes  and  finally  fell  asleep.  Fontenelle 

Persian  cat,  brought  up  on  meat,  will  not  touch  it.  Frequently,  therefore,  they 
die  of  starvation,  when  they  are  old  and  have  lost  their  teeth.  But  a cat 
without  a carnivorous  diet  is  a weak  cadaverous  cat.  It  may  be  mentioned  here 
that  it  is  essential  that  prey  be  freshly  killed.  Cats  will  not  eat  carrion  or  stale 
food  of  any  kind. 

* “ The  Fortnightly  Review”;  October  1917. 

286 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

tried  a similar  experiment  once,  but  with  less  success.  He 
rehearsed  a discourse  before  his  cat,  but  the  animal  refused 
to  listen  and  left  his  presence.  Always  talking,  Fontenelle 
followed  him  from  room  to  room,  upstairs  and  down,  until  at 
length  the  cat  escaped  to  the  roof!  ® But  the  great  black 
tom  cat  of  Ebury  Street  is  dead.  “ I am  sorry  to  tell  you,” 
Moore  wrote  me  in  December  1919,  “ that  my  last  cat  was 
run  over,  a dear  cat,  one  of  the  most  intelligent  I have  ever 
had,  who  did  not  mind  a cuff  for  jumping  on  the  table,  but 
would  not  forgive  you  if  you  turned  him  down  from  your 
knee.” 

Theophile  Gautier  has  written  a book  about  his  cats,  his 
black  and  white  dynasties,  but  delightful  as  these  pages  are 
they  have  been  worn  thread-bare  by  repetition  and  quotation. 
No  felinophile,  however,  who  has  thus  far  passed  it  by  should 
miss  reading  “ La  nature  chez  elle  et  la  menagerie  intime.” 
Pussies,  exquisite  or  suffering,  wander  in  and  out  of  nearly  all 
of  Pierre  Loti’s  books.  “ La  vie  de  deux  chats  ” is  possibly 
the  most  perfect  prose  yet  dedicated  to  the  charms  of  these 
gentle  beasts.  You  may  read  it  in  French,  in  translation,  or 
summarized  or  quoted  in  a dozen  cat  books.  His  studies  of 
cats  in  “ Reflets  sur  la  route  sombre  ” are  less  familiar.  How 
charming,  for  example,  is  this:  ” A cat  is  watching  me.  . . . 

He  is  close  at  hand,  on  the  table,  and  thrusts  forward  his  dimly 
thoughtful  little  head,  in  which  some  unwonted  flash  of  intel- 
ligence has  just  entered.  Whilst  servants  or  visitors  have 
been  on  the  spot,  he  has  scornfully  kept  out  of  the  way,  under 
an  armchair,  for  no  other  person  than  myself  is  allowed  to 
stroke  his  invariably  immaculate  coat.  But  no  sooner  does  he 
perceive  that  I am  alone  than  he  comes  and  sits  in  front  of 
me,  suddenly  assuming  one  of  those  expressive  looks  that  are 
seen  from  timxe  to  time  In  such  enigmatical,  contemplative 
animals  as  belong  to  the  same  genus  as  himself.  His  yellow 
eyes  look  up  at  me,  wide  open,  the  pupils  dilated  by  a mental 

®Moncrif:  “ Les  Chats,”  P.  103. 

287 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

effort  to  interrogate  and  attempt  to  understand:  ‘Who  are 

you,  after  all?’  he  asks.  ‘Why  do  I trust  you?  Of  what 
importance  are  you  in  the  world  ? ’ In  our  ignorance  of  things, 
our  inability  to  know  anything,  how  amazing  — perhaps  ter- 
rifying— if  we  could  but  see  into  the  curious  depths  of  these 
eyes  and  fathom  the  unknowable  within  the  little  brain  hidden 
away  there.  Ah  ! if  only  for  a moment  we  could  put  ourselves 
in  its  place  and  afterwards  remember,  what  an  instantaneous 
and  definite  solution  — though  no  doubt  terrifying  enough 
— we  might  obtain  of  the  perplexing  problem  of  life  and 
eternity ! 

“ And  now  he  is  about  to  sleep,  maybe  to  dream,  on  this 
table  at  which  I am  writing;  he  settles  down  as  close  to  me 
as  possible,  after  stretching  out  his  paw  towards  me  two  or 
three  times,  looking  at  me  as  though  craving  permission  to 
leap  on  to  my  knees.  And  there  he  lies,  his  head  daintily 
resting  on  my  arm,  as  though  to  say:  ‘Since  you  will  not 

have  me  altogether,  permit  this  at  least,  for  I shall  not  dis- 
turb you  if  I remain  so.’ 

“ How  mysterious  is  the  affection  of  animals ! It  denotes 
something  lofty,  something  superior  in  those  natures  about 
which  we  know  so  little.  And  how  well  I can  understand 
Mohammed,  who,  in  response  to  the  chant  of  the  muezzin  sum- 
moning him  to  prayers,  cut  off  with  a pair  of  scissors  the  hem 
of  his  cloak  before  rising  to  his  feet,  for  fear  of  disturbing 
his  cat,  which  had  settled  down  thereon  to  sleep.” 

Alexandre  Dumas  was  an  enormously  prodigal  and  fecund 
person.  He  wrote  a monstrous  lot;  he  lived  a lot;  he  ate  a 
lot;  his  establishment  was  always  crowded  and  among  the 
crowds  of  people  played  crowds  of  pets,  which  he  has  de- 
scribed in  ‘‘  Mes  Betes.”  The  reader,  however,  will  not  carry 
away  from  this  book  the  impression  that  Dumas  was  especially 
fond  of  animals,  although  there  is  a touching  picture  drawn  of 
the  English  pointer,  Pritchard.  The  vultures,  cats,  monkeys, 
and  macaws  about  the  place  were  mostly  cared  for  by  the 

288 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

gardener,  Michel,  who  adored  animals.  Dumas  was  amused 
by  them,  much  as  was  Byron. 

Chateaubriand,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a discerning  admirer 
of  cats.  Under  all  circumstances,  he  occupied  himself  with 
cats,  as  an  ambassador,  as  an  exile,  and  at  the  close  of  his  life 
when  he  ruled  over  the  literary  world  from  the  retirement  of 
Abbaye-aux-Bois.  Champfleury  finds  him  “ of  all  writers  on 
this  theme,  the  best,  the  most  enthusiastic.”  ” Do  you  not 
know  some  one,  7iear  here”  he  asked  his  friend,  Comte  de 
Marcellus,  ” who  is  like  a cat?  I think  myself,  that  our  long 
familiarity  has  given  me  some  of  his  ways.”  Space  and  Time 
did  not  permit  his  friend  to  send  him  Huysmans,  who  is  de- 
scribed by  Arthur  Symons  as  looking  like  a cat,^“  or  Walt 
Whitman,  of  whom  Edmund  Gosse  “ has  said,  ” If  it  be  true 
that  all  remarkable  human  beings  resemble  animals,  then  Walt 
Whitman  was  like  a cat  — a great  old  grey  Angora  Tom, 
alert  in  response,  serenely  blinking  under  his  combed  waves 
of  hair,  with  eyes  inscrutably  dreaming,”  or  La  Fontaine  or 
Baudelaire. When  he  went  on  an  embassy  to  Rome 
Chateaubriand  received  a cat  as  a gift  from  the  Pope.  “ He 
was  called  Micetto,”  writes  M.  de  Marcellus.  ” Pope  Leo  the 
Twelfth’s  cat,  which  came  into  the  possession  of  Chateau- 
briand, could  not  fail  to  reappear  in  the  description  of  that 
domestic  hearth  where  I have  so  often  seen  him  basking.” 
Chateaubriand  has  immortalized  his  favourite:  “My  com- 

panion is  a large  grey  and  red  cat,  banded  with  black.  He 
was  born  in  the  Vatican,  in  the  loggia  of  Raphael.  Leo  the 
Twelfth  reared  him  on  a fold  of  his  white  robe,  where  I used 
to  look  at  him  with  envy  when,  as  ambassador,  I received  my 

“ ‘ He  gave  me  the  impression  of  a cat,’  some  interviewer  once  wrote  of 
him;  ‘courteous,  perfectly  polite,  almost  amiable,  but  all  nerves,  ready  to  shoot 
out  his  claws  at  the  least  word.’  And  indeed  there  is  something  of  his  favourite 
animal  about  him.  The  face  is  grey,  wearily  alert  with  a look  of  benevolent 
malice.”  “ Figures  of  Several  Centuries,”  P.  270. 

“‘‘Critical  Kit-Kats,”  P.  103;  London;  1896. 

See  Pages  263  and  267. 


289 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

audiences.  The  successor  of  Saint  Peter  being  dead,  I in- 
herited the  bereaved  animal.  He  is  called  Micetto,  and 
surnamed  ‘ the  Pope’s  cat,’  enjoying  in  that  regard  much  con- 
sideration from  pious  souls.  I endeavour  to  soften  his  exile, 
and  help  him  to  forget  the  Sistine  Chapel,  and  the  vast  dome 
of  Saint  Angelo,  where  far  from  earth,  he  was  wont  to  take 
his  daily  promenade.” 

Barbey  d’Aurevilly’s  Demonette  outlived  her  master  and 
was  subsequently  cared  for  by  Louise  Read.  Her  name  was 
Desdemona,  “ Demonette  to  her  intimate  friends,”  Barbey 
used  to  explain.  She  was  given  to  the  writer-dandy  in  1884 
by  Madame  Constantin  Paul,  and  he  at  once  installed  her  as 
the  favourite  in  his  home,  even  allowing  her  to  sprawl  on  his 
manuscript  while  he  worked.  She  also  sat  by  him  with  her 
paws  on  the  table  at  his  meals,  receiving  the  choicest  morsels 
from  his  hands.  Leon  Ostrowski  made  a sketch  of  this  scene 
which  appeared  in  the  “ Revue  Illustree  ” for  January  i,  1887. 
“ Eyes  of  gold  on  a piece  of  black  velvet  thus  Barbey  de- 
scribed her.  When  Spirito  was  born,  Barbey  cried,  “ My 
cat  has  made  a misalliance!”  But  eventually  he  became 
deeply  attached  to  Spirito,  who  was  infinitely  more  tender 
than  the  Archduchess  Demonette,  as  he  sometimes  called  her. 
At  Valognes  he  had  a cat-companion  whom  he  called  Grifette 
but  he  missed  the  Archduchess  and  Spirito  and  he  wrote, 
“ How  lovely  Demonette  with  her  black  fur,  this  Mauritian 
princess,  would  be  here  in  this  great  yellow  room  (the  disguise 
of  the  brunettes)  ! Alas  I have  not  my  cats,  my  nocturnal 
companions,  to  caress.”  After  the  death  of  Barbey,  Demo- 
nette could  not  be  induced  to  leave  his  bed.  An  expression  of 
terror  and  fright  shone  from  her  eyes.  Three  days  later  four 
kittens  were  born  before  their  time,  three  of  them  dead;  the 
fourth  tiny  little  beast  seemed  to  inherit  his  mother’s  despair. 

Champfleury  spent  many  agreeable  hours  discussing  cats 
with  Prosper  Merimee,  who  found  cats  excessively  sensitive, 
“ Memoires  d’Outre  Tombe.” 

290 


RENDEZ-VOUS  DE  CHATS 

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Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

a trait  which  he  deplored,  and  exceedingly  polite.  “ In  that,” 
he  said,  “ the  animal  resembles  well-bred  persons.”  In  one 
of  his  letters  Merimee  writes  of  iin  vieux  chat  noir,  parfaite- 
ment  laid,  mats  plein  d’ esprit  et  de  discretion.  Seulement  il 
n’ a eu  que  des  gens  vulgaires  et  manque  d’ usage.”  Champ- 
fleury  also  describes  Victor  Hugo  and  his  cat:  “ It  takes  an 

essentially  feminine  and  poetic  nature  to  understand  the  cat. 
In  my  youth  I used  to  visit  at  a house  in  the  Place  Royale; 
the  salon  was  hung  with  tapestry  and  decorated  with  Gothic 
ornaments;  in  its  centre  stood  a large  red  ottoman,  on  which 
a huge  cat  was  seated,  awaiting  the  homage  of  visitors  with 
grave  dignity.  This  was  the  favourite  cat  of  Victor  Hugo, 
whom,  in  his  ‘ Lettres  sur  le  Rhin  ’ he  calls  Chanoine,  because 
of  his  indolence  and  idleness.”  Saint-Beuve’s  Palemon  was 
permitted  to  range  undisturbed  through  the  critic’s  precious 
manuscripts.  Among  the  guests  who  came  to  the  house  he 
had  a natural  preference  for  Theophile  Gautier.  Huysmans 
once  said,  “ In  the  matter  of  animals  I love  only  cats  but  I 
love  them  unreasonably  for  their  qualities  and  in  spite  of  their 
numerous  faults.  I have  only  one  but  I could  not  live  without 
a cat.”  But  later  he  wrote,  “ I have  been  and  still  am  a 
diligent  friend  of  the  feline  race,  but  since  the  death  of  my 
last  cat  I do  not  own  one;  my  affection  is  then  for  the  present 
entirely  platonic.”  This  feeling  that  there  will  never  be 
another,  after  the  death  of  a cat,  is  pretty  generally  distributed, 
but  in  time  another  usually  comes.  Stephane  Mallarme  held 
that  a cat  was  a necessary  adjunct  of  the  home.  He  com- 
pleted it,  polished  the  furniture,  softened  the  angles,  and  gave 
the  place  mystery.  He  was  the  last  bibelot,  the  supreme 
touch ! Mallarme’s  Lilith  was  sketched  by  Whistler. Fran- 
cois Coppee  named  one  of  his  cats  Bourget,  who  unlike  his 
namesake,  became  a great  fighter  until  finally  his  ears  were 
torn  to  lace.  His  nickname  was  Zeze  and  he  lived  to  be 

There  is  a reproduction  of  this  sketch  on  P.  251  of  Paul  Megnin’s  book, 
“Notre  Ami  le  Chat.” 


291 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

twenty  years  old.  Coppee  owned  two  more  celebrated  cats, 
Loulou  and  Mistigris.  These  pussies  had  their  own  physician, 
M.  Bourrel,  who  once  remarked,  to  Coppee’s  delight,  “ These 
are  not  the  first  literary  cats  that  I have  had  the  honour  of 
caring  for.  I was  also  the  physician  for  the  cats  of  M.  Paul 
de  Kock.”  Paul  de  Kock,  indeed,  was  a true  felinophile 
enrage.  His  property  at  Lilas  was  surrounded  by  a wall  and 
within  the  enclosure  pussies  roamed  at  their  leisure.  His 
neighbours  were  familiar  with  his  weakness  and  whenever 
they  found  a stray  cat,  they  carried  it  to  him.  They  did  not 
even  take  the  trouble  to  ring  the  bell  at  the  gate.  The  cat 
was  tossed  over  the  wall  to  join  the  vast  family  already 
there.  Frederic  Mistral  loved  his  cat,  Marcabrun.  Catulle 
Mendes  was  attracted  towards  cats  by  their  beauty.  Aside 
from  Mime,  who  committed  suicide  on  account  of  certain  al- 
terations, he  owned  Fasolt  and  Fafner,  who  during  their  and 
his  lifetime,  dined  at  his  table.  Georges  Courteline  had  a 
fondness  for  the  rakish  apache  cats  of  the  Butte  Montmartre 
and  he  named  them  the  Purotin  of  the  Rue  de  Ruisseau, 
Charles  Scherer,  alias  I’lnfame,  alias  la  Terreur  de  Clingnan- 
court,  la  Mere  Dissipee,  le  Petit  Turbulent,  and  the  Rouquin 
de  Montmartre.  When  Ernest  la  Jeunesse  came  to  Paris 
from  Nancy  he  brought  five  cats  with  him,  Elsa,  Thai's, 
Paphnuce,  Berenice,  and  Boudolha.  From  the  names  we 
would  gather  that  these  became  twenty-five  before  the  year 
was  out.  This  list,  you  will  observe,  is  not  short.  Indeed  a 
history  of  the  French  felinophiles  might  serve  as  the  literary 
history  of  France.  In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  re- 
member that  Frangois  Coppee,  Catulle  Mendes,  Andre  Theu- 
riet,  A Sylvestre,  Octave  Mirbeau,  Eugene  Lambert,  Steinlen, 
Pierre  Megnin,  and  Maurice  Vaucaire  served  on  the  jury  of 
the  first  cat-show  in  Paris. 

Cat-shows  have  undoubtedly  done  much  to  raise  this  little  animal  in  the 
estimation  of  unbelievers.  They  have  also  made  it  a great  incentive  to  im- 
prove breeds.  It  is  unfortunate,  however,  that  cat-shows  at  present  are  so 

292 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

“ The  Black  Cat  ” is  perhaps  not  the  story  of  a cat-lover; 
nevertheless  Poe  loved  cats,  and  there  are  those  who  even 
assert  that  Baudelaire  inherited  this  passion  from  Poe,  and 
took  it  over  together  with  the  other  paraphernalia  of  the 
alchemist’s  retreat.  At  any  rate  a visitor  to  Poe  in  Fordham 
in  1846,  describes  this  scene  in  his  cottage:  “ There  was  no 

clothing  on  the  bed,  which  was  only  straw,  but  a snow-white 
counterpane  and  sheets.  The  weather  was  cold  and  the  sick 
lady  (Mrs.  Poe)  had  the  dreadful  chills  that  accompany  the 
hectic  fever  of  consumption.  She  lay  on  the  straw  bed, 
wrapped  in  her  husband’s  great  coat,  with  a large  tortoise- 
shell cat  in  her  bosom.  The  wonderful  cat  seemed  conscious 
of  her  great  usefulness.  The  coat  and  the  cat  were  the  suf- 
ferer’s only  means  of  warmth,  except  as  her  husband  held 
her  hands  and  her  mother  her  feet.”  Mrs.  Poe  died  in  Janu- 
ary 1847.  Lafcadio  Hearn,  it  may  well  be  imagined,  was 
a felinophile.  “ Very  much  do  I love  cats,”  he  writes  in 
“ Kotto,”  “ and  I suppose  that  I could  write  a large  book 
about  the  different  cats  that  I have  kept,  in  various  climes 
and  times,  on  both  sides  of  the  world.”  Alas,  Hearn  never 
wrote  this  book,  which  might  have  been  his  masterpiece,  but 
pussies  stroll  through  his  other  works. 

Mark  Twain  completely  capitulated  to  grimalkin;  cats,  in- 
deed, it  would  seem  were  one  of  the  necessities  of  life  to  him. 
In  “ Pudd’nhead  Wilson  ” he  says,  ” A home  without  a cat, 
and  a well-fed,  well-petted,  and  properly  revered  cat,  may  be 
a perfect  home,  perhaps,  but  how  can  it  prove  its  title?” 
Cat  comparisons,  cat  allusions,  cat  descriptions,  cat  figures, 
cats  and  kittens  abound  in  his  stories.  Twain  even  mentions 
cats  in  his  early  lecture  on  Artemus  Ward.^®  In  “ Following 
the  Equator,”  somewhere  in  the  Orient  he  remarks  the  ab- 

largely  in  the  hands  of  professional  breeders,  who  are  anxious  to  advance  the 
prices  of  their  “ stock.”  The  cat-shows  in  both  England  and  France  were 
started  by  artists,  authors,  and  rich  amateurs.  It  would  be  a good  thing  if 
more  people  in  these  classes  would  interest  themselves  in  American  cat-shows. 

Don  C.  Seitz:  “Artemus  Ward,”  P.  140. 

293 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

sence  of  the  cat  from  a fauna  otherwise  satisfactory.  “ And 
yet,”  he  observes  plaintively,  “ a cat  would  have  liked  the 
place.”  In  “The  Stolen  White  Elephant”  we  read:  “We 

saw  upwards  of  a million  cats  in  Bermuda,  but  the  people  are 
very  abstemious  in  the  matter  of  dogs.  Two  or  three  nights 
we  prowled  the  country  far  and  wide,  and  never  once  were 
accosted  by  a dog.  It  is  a great  privilege  to  visit  such  a 
land.”  Mr.  Clemens  wrote  several  stories  about  cats  and 
he  was  once  photographed  with  a kitten.  Naturally  there 
were  always  cats  in  his  home  (Like  George  Borrow,  Samuel 
Butler,  and  George  Moore  he  specialized  in  the  domestic 
variety)  and  I have  been  told  that  when  he  played  billiards, 
his  cat  frequently  watched  him  from  one  corner  of  the 
table.  In  a letter  to  “ Saint  Nicholas  ” he  speaks  of  Sour 
Mash,  Apollinaris,  Zoroaster,  Blatherskite,  “ names  given 
them,  not  in  an  unfriendly  spirit,  but  merely  to  practise  the 
children  in  large  and  difficult  styles  of  pronunciation.” 

All  readers  of  “ Roughing  It  ” will  remember  Tom  Quartz, 
“ who  wouldn’t  let  the  Gov’ner  of  Californy  be  familiar  with 
him,”  and  who  “ never  ketched  a rat  in  his  life  — ’peared  to  be 
above  it.  You  couldn’t  tell  him  nothin’  ’bout  placer  dig- 
gins  — ’n’  as  for  pocket  mining,  why  he  was  jest  born  for 
it.  He  would  dig  out  after  me  an’  Jim  when  we  went  over 
the  hills  prospect’n,  and  he  would  trot  along  behind  us  for 
as  much  as  five  mile;  if  we  went  so  fur.  An’  he  had  the  best 
judgment  about  mining  ground  — why  you  never  see  anything 
like  it.  When  we  went  to  work,  he’d  scatter  a glance  around, 
’n’  if  he  didn’t  think  much  of  the  indications,  he  would  give 
a look  as  much  as  to  say,  ‘ Well,  I’ll  have  to  get  you  to  ex- 
cuse me,’  ’n’  without  another  word  he’d  hyste  his  nose  in 
the  air  and  shove  for  home.  But  if  the  ground  suited  him, 
he  would  lay  low  ’n’  take  a look,  an’  if  there  was  about  six 
or  seven  grains  of  gold  he  was  satisfied  — he  didn’t  want  no 

“ Some  Rambling  Notes  of  an  Idle  Excursion”;  P.  74. 

This  letter  was  republished  in  “ Cat  Stories  from  Saint  Nicholas.” 

294 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

better  prospect  ’n  that  — ’n’  then  he  would  lay  down  on 
our  coats  and  snore  like  a steamboat  till  we’d  struck  the  pocket 
an’  then  get  up  ’n’  superintend.”  In  due  time  quartz  mining 
became  fashionable.  One  day  Tom,  asleep  on  the  coat,  was 
forgotten  when  the  fuse  was  lit,  and  when  the  explosion  fol- 
lowed he  rose  in  the  air  with  the  shower  of  rock.  There- 
after Tom  “ shoved  off  ” for  home  as  soon  as  any  one  lit  a 
fuse. 

“ When  Tom  was  sot  once,  he  was  always  sot,  and  you  might 
a blowed  him  up  as  much  as  three  million  times  ’n’  never  a 
broken  him  of  his  cussed  prejudice  agin  quartz  mining.” 
Theodore  Roosevelt  must  have  enjoyed  this  story  for  he 
named  a White  House  cat,  Tom  Quartz.  This  cat  once  play- 
fully challenged  the  dignity  of  Joe  Cannon.^® 

Henry  James’s  love  of  cats  is  a more  esoteric  matter.  Less 
is  probably  known  about  this  writer’s  private  life  than  about 
the  life  of  any  man  equally  prominent.  He  was  seldom,  if 
ever,  interviewed,  and  anecdotes  of  his  adventures  and  per- 
sonal habits  did  not  appear  in  the  magazine  sections  of  the 
Sunday  newspapers,  or  in  ” The  Ladies’  Home  Journal.”  Nev- 
ertheless one  writer  has  asserted  that  Henry  James  often 
worked  with  a cat  on  his  shoulder,^®  a statement  I should  not 
have  credited  uncorroborated,  but  in  a paper  by  S.  B.  Wister 
I found  the  following:  “ The  prettiest  of  Princess’s  ways  was 

a fashion  she  had  of  rearing  on  her  hind  legs,  pressing  her 
little  pink  nose  against  the  face  that  bent  over  her,  and  at 
the  same  time  patting  the  cheeks  with  her  forepaws.  She  re- 
served this  caress  for  her  mistress  almost  exclusively,  making 
a rare  exception  in  favour  of  her  master,  but  for  nobody  else 
save  once,  memorably  for  Mr.  Henry  James.  It  was  very 
rapid,  very  endearing,  and  had  a touch  of  condescension  about 

This  incident  is  related  in  “ Theodore  Roosevelt’s  Letters  to  His  Chil- 
dren.” 

2®  Marvin  R.  Clark:  “Pussy  and  Her  Language.” 

Temple  Bar”;  January  1896. 


295 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

it  which  was  characteristic  of  her  attitude  towards  man  and 
beast.” 

In  William  Dean  Howells’s  ” My  Literary  Passions  ” that 
author  tells  us  how  in  his  youth  he  wrote  a “ mock-heroic  epic 
of  a cat  fight,  studied  from  the  cat  fights  in  our  back  yard, 
with  the  wonted  invocation  to  the  Muse,  and  the  machinery 
of  partisan  gods  and  goddesses.  It  was  in  some  hundreds  of 
verses,  which  I did  my  best  to  balance  as  Pope  did,  with  a 
caesura  falling  in  the  middle  of  the  line,  and  a neat  antithesis 
at  either  end.”  Further  pussies  decorate  the  progress  of  Mr. 
Howells’s  many  volumes  and  in  ” Familiar  Spanish  Studies  ” 
I found  convincing  evidence  of  this  writer’s  real  love  for  cats, 
for  it  would  seem  that  he  would  turn  away  from  Goya  and 
El  Greco  to  pet  and  talk  to  cats  in  Spain. I was  somewhat 
astonished  to  learn  that  this  idiosyncrasy  had  not  grown  fur- 
ther, for  Mr.  Howells  wrote  me,  ” We  are  a cat  family  as 
opposed  to  dogs,  but  I have  no  great  personal  passion  for 
cats.”  Perhaps  not,  yet  in  one  of  his  books, Mr.  Howells 
has  made  a very  personal  study  of  a cat  named  Jim  who  lived 
at  Kittery  Point.  “ Unless  one  has  lived  at  Kittery  Point, 
and  realized  from  observation  and  experience,  what  a leading 
part  cats  play  in  society,  one  cannot  feel  the  full  import  of 
this  fact.  Not  only  has  every  house  in  Kittery  its  cat,  but 
every  house  seems  to  have  its  half-dozen  cats,  large,  little,  old, 
and  young;  of  divers  colours,  tending  mostly  to  a dark  tortoise- 
shell.^^ With  a whole  ocean  inviting  to  the  tragic  rite,  I do 
not  believe  there  is  ever  a kitten  drowned  in  Kittery;  the 
illimitable  sea  rather  employs  itself  in  supplying  the  fish  to 
which  ‘ no  cat’s  averse,’  but  which  the  cats  of  Kittery  demand 
to  have  cooked.  They  do  not  like  raw  fish ; they  say  it  plainly, 

22  “ In  Gerona  Cathedral  there  was  a cat  who  would  stroll  about  in  front 
of  the  capilla  mayor  during  the  progress  of  mass,  receiving  the  caresses  of  the 
passersby,”  writes  Havelock  Ellis  in  “The  Soul  of  Spain,”  P.  14. 

23  “ Literature  and  Life.” 

2‘t  Mr.  Howells  probably  means  tabby. 

296 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

and  they  prefer  to  have  the  bones  taken  out  for  them,  though 
they  do  not  insist  upon  that  point.” 

Jim  scented  the  odour  of  broiled  mackerel  in  the  air  about 
the  Howells  kitchen  and  dropped  in  one  evening  ” with  a fine 
casual  effect  of  being  merely  out  for  a walk,  and  feeling  it  a 
neighbourly  thing  to  call.  He  had  on  a silver  collar,  en- 
graved with  his  name  and  surname,  which  offered  itself  for 
introduction  like  a visiting  card.  He  was  too  polite  to  ask 
himself  to  the  table  at  once,  but  after  he  had  been  welcomed 
to  the  family  circle,  he  formed  the  habit  of  finding  himself 
with  us  at  breakfast  and  supper,  when  he  sauntered  in  like 
one  who  should  say,  ‘ Did  I smell  fish?  ’ but  would  not  go 
further  in  the  way  of  hinting. 

” He  had  no  need  to  do  so.  He  was  made  at  home,  and 
freely  invited  to  our  best  not  only  in  fish,  but  in  chicken,  for 
which  he  showed  a nice  taste,  and  in  sweet-corn,  for  which  he 
revealed  a most  surprising  fondness  when  it  was  cut  from  the 
cob  for  him.  After  he  had  breakfasted  or  supped  he  grace- 
fully suggested  that  he  was  thirsty  by  climbing  to  the  table 
where  the  water-pitcher  stood  and  stretching  his  fine  feline 
head  towards  it.  When  he  had  lapped  up  his  saucer  of  water, 
he  marched  into  the  parlour,  and  riveted  the  chains  upon  our 
fondness  by  taking  the  best  chair  and  going  to  sleep  in  it  in 
attitudes  of  Egyptian,  of  Assyrian  majesty.  His  arts  were 
few  or  none;  he  rather  disdained  to  practise  any;  he  completed 
our  conquest  by  maintaining  himself  simply  a fascinating 
presence.  . . 

Thomas  A.  Janvier  was  a great  ailurophile.  Tabbies  and 
silvers  insinuate  themselves  smilingly  into  the  pages  of  many 
of  his  books.  “ Not  that  I would  depreciate  one  single  beast 
— no,  not  even  the  hippopotamus  in  order  to  give  cats  a better 
standing;  ” he  writes, “ for  all  of  them  in  their  severally 

25  In  his  essay,  “The  Cats  of  Henriette  Ronner”;  “The  Century  Maga- 
zine”; October  1893. 


297 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

appointed  places,  have  those  first  good  qualities  wherewith 
they  have  been  endowed  by  their  creator.  . . . But  to  some 
natures  — of  which,  I confess,  mine  own  is  one  — the  super- 
eminence of  the  cat  over  every  other  animal,  save  man  alone, 
is  so  obtrusive  a certainty  that  there  surely  is  no  denying  it.” 
Edmund  Clarence  Stedman  was  an  admirer  of  cats.  In  1895 
he  owned  a great  maltese  called  Babylon  and  Mrs.  Stedman 
a long-haired  blue  called  Kelpie.  Sarah  Orne  Jewett  is  a cat- 
lover  and  the  old  gentlewomen  of  her  books  usually  are  felin- 
ophiles  too.  Mrs.  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett  exhibited  her 
Dick  at  the  first  New  York  cat-show.  Mary  E.  Wilkins  is 
devoted  to  puss  and  she  has  written  several  stories  about  him. 
I especially  remember  the  dreary  old  New  England  spinster 
who  lost  her  Willy,  and  who  thereupon  became  very  wicked, 
figuratively  cursed  her  Maker,  and  refused  to  go  to  meetin’. 
Willy  was  eventually  discovered  in  the  cellar  where  the  spin- 
ster herself  had  unwittingly  locked  him  up.  I think  Miss 
Repplier  must  love  cats  with  a fervour  equal  to  her  adoration 
of  the  eighteenth  century  English  essayists.  At  least  they 
share  an  equal  importance  in  her  books.  Her  study  of  a kit- 
ten, her  portraits  of  Agrippina,  Claudius  Nero,  and  Lux 
are  among  the  treasures  of  felinature,  and  yet  Miss  Repplier 
seems  always  a little  afraid  that  she  loves  her  cats  more  than 
they  love  her. 

Cats  appear  somewhere  in  nearly  all  the  books  of  Edgar 
Saltus,  which  is  but  fitting  in  the  works  of  a son  of  the 
French  diabolists,  but  the  only  story  he  has  written  which 
directly  concerns  puss  is  about  a girl, 

qui  miaulait  d’un  ton  fort  doux. 

Saltus’s  passion  for  the  animal  is  as  intense  as  that  of 
Baudelaire.  Like  the  author  of  the  ” Fleurs  du  Mai  ” he 
stops  to  converse  with  every  grimalkin  he  meets  on  the  street. 
Indeed  wherever  he  goes,  which  to  be  sure  is  next  to  nowhere, 

26  To  me  this  exception  seems  unduly  cautious  and  unnecessary. 

298 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

for  Saltus  is  a recluse,  the  cats  he  meets  receive  more  attention 
from  him  than  men.  In  “ The  Anatomy  of  Negation,”  one 
reads,  “ Throughout  the  middle  ages  no  sorcerer  was  consid- 
ered well-equipped  without  a sleek  black  cat,  an  animal  to 
which,  like  many  a sensible  mortal,  the  devil  appears  to  have 
been  greatly  attached.”  In  “ Mr.  Incoul’s  Misadventure  ” 
there  is  a Thibetan  cat.  In  “ The  Paliser  Case  ” there  is  a 
cat  with  “ long  hair,  the  colour  of  smoke,  a bushy  tail,  the 
eyes  of  an  angel,  and  a ferocious  moustache.” 

But  of  all  American  cat-lovers  I think  perhaps  Charles  Dud- 
ley Warner  deserves  first  place.  . . . “ I only  had  one  cat,” 
he  once  said,  “ and  he  was  more  of  a companion  than  a cat. 
When  he  departed  this  life  I did  not  care  to  do  as  many  men 
do  when  their  partners  die,  take  a second.”  The  wonderful 
Calvin  appears  briefly  in  the  delightful  chapters  of  “ My 
Summer  in  a Garden,”  which  Samuel  Butler  sent  to  Miss 
Savage  warning  her  to  keep  silent  if  she  did  not  like  it,  “ for 
I cannot  bear  to  have  people  disagree  with  me.”  After  Cal- 
vin’s death  Warner  wrote  a special  paper  about  him,  which 
is  included  in  later  editions  of  this  work.  This  essay  is  a 
masterpiece  of  sympathetic  prose  and  one  of  the  best  cat  por- 
traits that  has  been  given  to  us  by  a literary  man.  Calvin,  it 
seems,  walked  one  day  a full-grown  cat  into  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Harriet  Beecher  Stowe.  “ It  was  as  if  he  had  inquired  at  the 
door  if  that  was  the  residence  of  the  author  of  ‘ Uncle  Tom’s 
Cabin,’  and,  upon  being  assured  that  it  was,  had  decided  to 
dwell  there.”  Later  when  Mrs.  Stowe  moved  to  Florida, 
Calvin  was  entrusted  to  the  Warner  family  of  which  he  was  a 
beloved  member  until  his  death  eight  years  later. 

“ He  was  of  royal  mould,  and  had  an  air  of  high  breeding. 
He  was  large,  but  he  had  nothing  of  the  fat  grossness  of  the 
celebrated  Angora  family;  though  powerful,  he  was  exquisitely 
proportioned,  and  as  graceful  in  every  movement  as  a young 
leopard.  . . . His  coat  was  the  finest  and  softest  I have  ever 
seen,  a shade  of  quiet  maltese;  and  from  his  throat  down- 

299 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

ward  underneath,  to  the  white  tips  of  his  feet,  he  wore  the 
whitest  and  most  delicate  ermine;  and  no  person  was  ever 
more  fastidiously  neat.  In  his  finely  formed  head  you  saw 
something  of  his  aristocratic  character;  the  ears  were  small 
and  cleanly  cut,  there  was  a tinge  of  pink  in  the  nostrils,  his 
face  was  handsome,  and  the  expression  of  his  countenance  ex- 
ceedingly intelligent  — I should  call  it  even  a sweet  expres- 
sion if  the  term  were  not  inconsistent  with  his  look  of  alert- 
ness and  sagacity. 

“ Although  he  had  fixed  notions  about  his  own  rights,  and 
extraordinary  persistency  in  getting  them,  he  never  showed 
temper  at  a repulse;  he  simply  and  firmly  persisted  till  he  had 
what  he  wanted.  His  diet  was  one  point;  his  idea  was  that 
of  the  scholars  about  dictionaries, — ‘ to  get  the  best.’  He 
knew  as  well  as  any  one  what  was  in  the  house,  and  would 
refuse  beef  if  turkey  was  to  be  had;  and  if  there  were  oysters, 
he  would  wait  over  the  turkey  to  see  if  the  oysters  would  not 
be  forthcoming.  And  yet  he  was  not  a gross  gourmand;  he 
would  eat  bread  if  he  saw  me  eating  it,  and  thought  he  was 
not  being  imposed  on. 

“ The  intelligence  of  Calvin  was  something  phenomenal,  in 
his  rank  of  life.  He  established  a method  of  communicating 
his  wants,  and  even  some  of  his  sentiments;  and  he  could  help 
himself  in  many  things.  There  was  a furnace  register  in  a 
retired  room,  where  he  used  to  go  when  he  wished  to  be 
alone,  that  he  always  opened  when  he  desired  more  heat;  but 
never  shut  it,  any  more  than  he  shut  the  door  after  himself. 
. . . I hesitate  a little  to  speak  of  his  capacity  for  friendship 
and  the  affectionateness  of  his  nature,  for  I know  from  his  own 
reserve  that  he  would  not  care  to  have  it  much  talked  about. 
We  understood  each  other  perfectly,  but  we  never  made  any 
fuss  about  it;  when  I spoke  his  name  and  snapped  my  fingers, 
he  came  to  me;  when  I returned  home  at  night,  he  was  pretty 
sure  to  be  waiting  for  me  near  the  gate,  and  would  rise  and 
gaunter  along  the  walk,  as  if  his  being  there  was  purely  ac- 

300 


Literary  Men  Who  Have  Loved  Cats 

cidental, — so  shy  was  he  commonly  of  showing  feeling. 
There  was  one  thing  he  never  did, — he  never  rushed  through 
an  open  doorway.  He  never  forgot  his  dignity.  If  he  had 
asked  to  have  the  door  opened,  and  was  eager  to  go  out,  he 
always  went  out  deliberately;  I can  see  him  now,  standing  on 
the  sill,  looking  about  at  the  sky  as  if  he  was  thinking  whether 
it  were  worth  while  to  take  an  umbrella,  until  he  was  near 
having  his  tail  shut  in. 

“ His  friendship  was  rather  constant  than  demonstrative. 
When  we  returned  from  an  absence  of  nearly  two  years,  Cal- 
vin welcomed  us  with  evident  pleasure,  but  showed  his  satis- 
faction rather  by  tranquil  happiness  than  by  fuming  about. 
He  had  the  faculty  of  making  us  glad  to  get  home.  It  was 
his  constancy  that  was  so  attractive.  He  liked  companionship, 
but  he  wouldn’t  be  petted,  or  fussed  over,  or  sit  in  any  one’s 
lap  a moment;  he  always  extricated  himself  from  such  fa- 
miliarity with  dignity  and  with  no  show  of  temper.  If  there 
was  any  petting  to  be  done,  however,  he  chose  to  do  it.  Often 
he  would  sit  looking  at  me,  and  then,  moved  by  a delicate 
affection,  come  and  pull  at  my  coat  and  sleeve  until  he  could 
touch  my  face  with  his  nose,  and  then  go  away  contented.” 

Like  Loti,  Mr.  Warner  touches  our  hearts  very  deeply  in  the 
death  scene,  a scene  which  is  very  sincerely,  very  beautifully 
written.  An  animal  who  can  inspire  such  prose  as  ” Calvin  ” 
and  ” Vie  de  Deux  Chats  ” has  certainly  served  his  purpose  in 
this  world. 


301 


Chapter  Thirteen:  Apotheosis 

Les  betes  sont  au  bon  Dieu; 

Mais  la  betise  est  a I’homme. 

Victor  Hugo. 

I have  written,  how  skilfully  I cannot  tell,  on  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  cat,  his  graces  and  calineries,  the  history 
of  his  subjugation  of  humankind.  Through  all  the  ages,  even 
during  the  dark  epoch  of  witchcraft  and  persecution,  puss  has 
maintained  his  supremacy,  continued  to  breed  and  multiply, 
defying,  when  convenient,  the  laws  of  God  and  man,  now  our 
friend,  now  our  enemy,  now  wild,  now  tame,  the  pet  of  the 
hearth  or  the  tiger  of  the  heath,  but  always  free,  always  inde- 
pendent, always  an  anarchist  who  Insists  upon  his  rights,  what- 
ever the  cost.  The  cat  never  forms  soviets;  he  works  alone. 

We  have  much  to  learn  from  the  cat,  we  men  who  prefer 
to  follow  the  slavish  habits  of  the  dog  or  the  ox  or  the  horse. 
If  men  and  women  would  become  more  feline,  indeed,  I think  it 
would  prove  the  salvation  of  the  human  race.  Certainly  It 
would  end  war,  for  cats  will  not  fight  for  an  Ideal  in  the  mass, 
having  no  faith  In  mass  ideals,  although  a single  cat  will  fight 
to  the  death  for  his  own  ideals,  his  freedom  of  speech  and 
expression.  The  dog  and  the  horse,  on  the  other  hand,  per- 
petuate war,  by  group  thinking,  group  acting,  and  serve  fur- 
ther to  encourage  popular  belief  in  that  monstrous  panacea, 
universal  brotherhood. 

For  the  next  war  man  will  build  ships  which  can  make  sixty 
or  seventy  knots  an  hour;  submarines  will  skim  through  five 
thousand  leagues  of  the  sea  with  the  speed  of  sharks;  and 
airships  will  fly  over  cities,  dropping  bundles  of  TNT. 

302 


Apotheosis 

Saigon,  Berlin,  Cairo,  Paris,  Madrid,  and  even  Indianapolis 
are  doomed  to  disappear.  Man  himself  will  become  extinct; 
crude,  silly  man,  always  struggling  against  Nature,  rather  than 
with  Nature  behind  him,  helping  him  forward  and  across,  be- 
yond the  abysses  and  torrents  and  landslides  of  existence. 
And  presently  everything  we  know  will  be  over,  another  cycle 
of  years  will  begin,  and  a new  “ civilization  ” will  arise. 

For  man  has  persistently,  and  perhaps  a little  intentionally, 
misunderstood  the  Prometheus  legend.  Prometheus  was  the 
enemy,  not  the  friend,  of  man.  The  fire  which  he  brought 
to  earth  was  a devastating  flame  and  Zeus,  the  Nature  God, 
chained  him  to  a rock  to  protect  humanity.  This  misuse  of 
holy  things,  this  turning  of  good  to  the  account  of  evil,  this 
misapplication  of  natural  principles  to  unnatural  practices  are 
the  commonplaces  of  history,  the  foundations  of  our  present 
state,  and  the  causes  of  all  misery. 

But  the  cat  will  survive.  He  is  no  such  fool  as  man.  He 
know's  that  he  must  have  Nature  behind  him.  He  also  knows 
that  it  is  easier  for  one  cat  alone  to  fit  into  the  curves  of  Nature 
than  two  cats.  So  he  walks  by  himself.  For  Nature  here 
and  Nature  there  are  two  different  Natures  and  what  one  cat 
on  one  side  of  the  fence  has  to  do  is  not  what  another  cat 
on  the  other  side  of  the  fence  has  to  do.  But  the  great  prin- 
ciples are  obeyed  by  all  cats  to  such  an  extent  that  twenty,  a 
hundred,  a thousand  cats  will  willingly  give  their  lives,  which 
they  might  easily  save,  to  preserve  an  instinct,  a racial  memory, 
which  will  serve  to  perpetuate  the  feline  race.  The  result 
will  be  that,  after  the  cataclysm,  out  of  the  mounds  of 
heaped-up  earth,  the  piles  and  wrecks  of  half-buried  cities, 
the  desolated  fields  of  grain,  and  the  tortured  orchards,  the  cat 
will  stalk,  confident,  self-reliant,  capable,  imperturbable,  and 
philosophical.  He  will  bridge  the  gap  until  man  appears  again 
and  then  he  will  sit  on  new  hearths  and  again  will  teach  his 
mighty  lesson  to  ears  and  eyes  that  again  are  dumb  and  blind. 
Shylock’s  doom  was  foretold  by  Shakespeare  from  the  moment 

303 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

the  poet  asked  the  poor  creature  to  say,  “ the  harmless  neces- 
sary cat.”  For  it  is  possible,  nay  probable,  that  the  cat, 
unlike  man  who  forgets  his  previous  forms,  remembers,  really 
remembers,  many  generations  back;  that  what  we  call  instinct 
may  be  more  profound  than  knowledge.  And  so  Providence 
wisely  has  not  allowed  the  cat  to  speak  any  language  save  his 
own. 

We  may  dominate  dogs,  but  cats  can  never  be  dominated 
except  by  force.  They  can  be  annihilated,  at  least  a few  of 
them  can,  but  never  made  servile  or  banal.  The  cat  is 
never  vulgar.  He  will  not  even  permit  God  to  interfere  with 
his  liberty  and  if  he  suffers  so  much  as  a toothache  he  will  re- 
fuse all  food.  He  would  rather  die  than  endure  pain.  Thus, 
like  the  Spartan,  he  preserves  the  strength  of  his  stock.  He 
may  at  any  moment  change  his  motto  from  Libertas  Sine 
I. above  or  A^yiica  Non  Serva  to  Quand  Menie. 

There  is,  indeed,  no  single  quality  of  the  cat  that  man  could 
not  emulate  to  his  advantage.  He  is  clean,  the  cleanest,  in- 
deed, of  all  the  animals,  absolutely  without  odour  or  soil  when 
it  is  within  his  power  to  be  so.  He  is  silent,  walking  on 
padded  paws  with  claws  withdrawn,  making  no  sound  unless 
he  wishes  to  say  something  definite  and  then  he  can  express 
himself  freely.  He  believes  in  free-speech,  and  not  only  be- 
lieves in  it,  but  indulges  in  it.  Nothing  will  make  a cat  stop 
talking  when  he  wants  to,  except  the  hand  of  death. 

He  is  entirely  self-reliant.  He  lives  in  homes  because  he 
chooses  to  do  so,  and  as  long  as  the  surroundings  and  the 
people  suit  him,  but  he  lives  there  on  his  own  terms,  and  never 
sacrifices  his  own  comfort  or  his  own  well-being  for  the  sake 
of  the  stupid  folk  with  whom  he  comes  in  contact.  Thus 
he  is  the  most  satisfactory  of  friends.  Among  men  (or 
women)  it  is  customary  to  say,  “ We’re  dining  with  the  Ogil- 
vies  tonight.  We  don’t  want  to  go  but  they’ll  never  forgive 
us  if  we  don’t.”  Meanwhile  the  Ogilvies  are  muttering, 
” Good  God!  This  is  the  night  those  horrible  Mitchells  are 

304 


FEATHERS  ALERT 

From  a photograph  by  Harriet  l\  Furness 


Apotheosis 

coming  to  dinner.  I wish  they  would  telephone  that  they 
cannot  come.  Perhaps  their  motor  will  break  down  on  the 
way!  ” The  cat  neither  gives  nor  accepts  invitations  that  do 
not  come  from  the  heart.  If  he  tires  of  his  friends  some- 
times, so  do  I.  If  he  wishes  to  move  he  does  so.  Perhaps  to 
another  house,  perhaps  to  the  wilds.  If  he  is  suddenly  thrown 
on  his  own  resources  in  the  country  he  can  support  himself 
on  the  highway;  he  can  even  support  himself  in  town  under 
conditions  that  would  terrify  that  half-hearted,  group-seeking 
socialist,  the  dog.  The  cat  is  virile,  and  virility  is  a quality 
which  man  has  almost  lost.  St.  George  Mivart  insisted  that 
the  cat  rather  than  man  was  at  the  summit  of  the  animal 
kingdom  and  that  he  was  the  best-fitted  of  the  mammalians 
to  make  his  way  in  the  world.^  I agree  perfectly  with  St. 
George  Mivart.  I do  not  see  how  it  is  possible  for  any  one 
to  disagree  with  him.  But  the  cat  makes  no  boast  of  his 
pre-eminent  position;  he  is  satisfied  to  occupy  it.  He  does  not 
call  man  a “ lower  animal  ” although  doubtless  he  regards  him 
in  this  light.  I have  dwelt  at  some  length  on  his  occult  sense. 
It  can  scarcely  be  overestimated.  He  has  not  lost  the  power 
of  gesture  language.  With  his  tail,  with  his  paws,  his  cocking 
ears,  his  eyes,  his  head,  the  turn  of  his  body,  or  the  waving  of 
his  fur,  he  expresses  in  symbols  the  most  cabalistic  secrets. 
He  is  beautiful  and  he  is  graceful.  He  makes  his  appearance 
and  his  life  as  exquisite  as  circumstances  will  permit.  He  is 
modest,  he  is  urbane,  he  is  dignified.  Indeed,  a well-bred  cat 
never  argues.  He  goes  about  doing  what  he  likes  in  a well- 
bred  superior  manner.  If  he  is  interrupted  he  will  look  at 
you  in  mild  surprise  or  silent  reproach  but  he  will  return  to 
his  desire.  If  he  is  prevented,  he  will  wait  for  a more  favour- 
able occasion.  But  like  all  well-bred  individualists,  and  unlike 
human  anarchists,  the  cat  seldom  interferes  with  other  people’s 

1 St.  George  Mivart;  “The  Cat,”  P.  492:  “The  organization  of  the  cat- 

tribe  may  be  deemed  superior,  because  it  is  not  only  excellent  in  itself,  but 
because  it  is  fitted  to  dominate  the  excellences  of  other  beasts.” 


305 


The  Tiger  in  the  House 

rights.  His  intelligence  keeps  him  from  doing  many  of  the 
fool  things  that  complicate  life.  Cats  never  write  operas  and 
they  never  attend  them.  They  never  sign  papers,  or  pay  taxes, 
or  vote  for  president.  An  injunction  will  have  no  power 
whatever  over  a cat.  A cat,  of  course,  would  not  only  refuse 
to  obey  any  amendment  whatever  to  any  constitution,  he 
would  refuse  to  obey  the  constitution  itself. 

Feathers  is  very  tired  of  this  book.  She  has  told  me  so 
more  than  once  lately.  Sometimes  with  her  eyes,  gazing  at 
me  with  impatience  while  I write.  Sometimes  with  her  paws, 
scratching  scornfully  at  the  sheets  of  paper  as  I toss  them  to 
the  floor.  Sometimes  on  my  writing  table  she  insinuates  her- 
self between  me  and  my  work.  When  I began  this  book  she 
was  a kitten,  a chrysanthemum-like  ball  of  tawny,  orange, 
white,  and  black  fuzzy  fur,  and  now  she  is  about  to  become 
a mother.  Yes,  while  I have  been  writing  a book.  Feathers 
has  experienced  teething,  love,  and  now  soon  will  come  ma- 
ternity. It  makes  me  feel  very  small,  very  unimportant. 
What  I have  done  in  fourteen  months  seems  very  little  when 
it  is  compared  with  what  she  has  done. 

The  mystery  of  life  deepens  for  her.  Her  eyes  are  slightly 
drawn.  She  is  less  active  and  she  wishes  more  repose.  She 
needs  the  warmth  of  my  knees,  where  she  desires  to  sleep  un- 
interrupted by  the  sound  of  clicking  keys.  She  is  pleading 
with  me  to  come  to  an  end.  And  I cannot  resist  her  prayer. 
See,  Feathers,  I am  nearly  done.  I am  writing  the  last  page. 
You  can  come  to  me  now  and  spend  the  hours  of  preparation 
in  my  lap,  and  I offer,  rather  than  this  poor  book,  to  test 
myself  as  a literary  man,  after  Samuel  Butler’s  method,  by 
naming  your  yet  unborn  kittens.  I shall  call  them,  if  Nature 
gives  you  five,  and  the  sexes  permit,  Aurelie,  Golden  Feathers, 
Coq  d’Or,  Prince  Igor,  and  Jurgen. 

March  4,  IQ20. 

New  York. 


306 


Bibliography  and  Index 


The  obligations  incurred  in  the  preparation  of  this  book  have  been 
many  and  deep.  I wish  to  thank  my  wife,  Fania  Marinoli,  for  sug- 
gesting the  charming  title,  Mrs.  Harriet  V.  Furness  for  her  admirable 
photographs  of  cats,  of  which  I have  used  so  many,  Mr.  Arthur  Davison 
Ficke,  for  photographs  of  Japanese  prints  in  his  collection,  and  per- 
haps most  of  all,  my  friend,  Alfred  F.  Goldsmith,  who  has  scoured 
Europe,  Asia,  and  Hoboken  for  some  books  which  were  very  difficult 
to  find.  The  cover  design  is  from  a medal  struck  in  1725,  now  in  the 
French  National  Library.  For  the  rest  the  bibliography  will  express  my 
gratitude. 


Bibliography 

This  bibliography  makes  no  pretence  to  being  complete.  It  includes 
very  few  books  that  I have  not  read  myself,  very  few  books,  indeed, 
which  are  not  in  my  own  library.  An  exhaustive  bibliography  on  the 
subject  of  cats  would  undoubtedly  fill  a very  large  volume  all  by  itself. 
But  this  one  is  more  nearly  complete  than  any  other  which  exists;  as 
a matter  of  fact  it  is  the  only  bibliography  on  the  subject  that  I know 
save  Mr.  Babington’s,  which  covers  only  a small  and  select  private 
library,  and  which  makes  no  mention  of  periodical  literature.  I have 
not  in  all  cases  listed  first  editions ; generally  I have  mentioned  the 
special  edition  I have  consulted.  As  for  errors  and  omissions  I shall 
be  only  too  glad  to  receive  news  of  them  as  at  some  future  time, 
in  another  publication,  I may  extend  the  present  list.  Any  one  who 
has  suggestions  to  make  may  address  me  care  of  my  publisher,  Alfred  A. 
Knopf,  220  West  Forty-second  Street,  New  York  City. 

I 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Babington,  Percy  L. : A Collection  of  Books  about  Cats;  fifty-four 

copies  printed  by  J.  B.  Peace,  M.A.  at  the  University  Press,  Cam- 
bridge, England;  August  1918. 


II 

GENERAL 

Champfleury  (pseudonym  of  Jules  Husson)  : Les  Chats;  J.  Roths- 

child; Paris;  1870.  The  fifth  edition  is  an  edition  de  luxe,  and 
includes  a lithograph  in  colour  by  Marie  Champfleurr^  after  Bur- 
bank, other  illustrations  in  colour,  etchings  by  Edouard  Manet, 
Eugene  Lambert,  Armand  Gautier,  Crafty,  and  Marie  Champ- 
fleury, besides  numerous  illustrations  in  the  text. 

309 


Bibliography 

This  book  was  translated  by  Mrs.  Cashel  Hoey,  with  supplementary 
notes,  under  the  title:  The  Cat  Past  and  Present;  G.  Bell  and 
Sons;  London;  1885.  The  illustrations  are  from  the  original 
French  edition. 

Chance,  Mrs.  W.  (later  Lady)  : A Book  of  Cats,  being  a discourse 

on  cats  with  many  quotations  and  original  pencil  drawings;  J.  M. 
Dent  and  Co.;  London;  1898.  E.  P.  Dutton  and  Co.  published 
an  American  edition  the  same  year. 

Clark,  Marvin  R. : Pussy  and  Her  Language,  including  a paper  on 

the  wonderful  discovery  of  the  cat  language  by  Alphonse  Leon 
Grimaldi,  F.R.S.,  etc.  Published  by  the  author;  New  York; 

1895- 

Gautier,  Theophile:  La  Nature  Chez  Elle  et  la  Menagerie  Intime; 

Bibliotheque-Charpentier ; Paris. 

Landrin,  Alexandre:  Le  Chat:  zoologie,  origine,  historique,  moeurs, 

habitudes,  races,  anatomie,  maladies,  jurisprudence;  Georges  Carre; 
Paris;  1894.  With  one  illustration. 

Marks,  Anne:  The  Cat  in  History,  Legend,  and  Art:  Elliot  Stock; 

London;  1909.  The  illustrations  are  by  the  author. 

Megnin,  Paul:  Notre  Ami  le  Chat,  with  a preface  by  Francois  Cop- 

pee;  J.  Rothschild;  Paris;  1899.  With  two  hundred  illustrations 
(drawings  and  photographs),  many  of  which  are  from  Champ- 
fleury’s  book. 

Michel,  Gustav:  Das  Buch  der  Katzen;  Hermann  Weisbach;  Wei- 

mar; 1876.  With  twenty-six  illustrations  from  drawings. 
Michelet,  Madame  Jules:  Les  Chats;  E.  Flammarion;  Paris.  Gab- 

riel Monod  edited  this  book  which  Madame  Michelet  left  in 
manuscript  at  the  time  of  her  death. 

Moncrif,  F.  A.  Paradis  de:  Les  Chats;  Quillan ; Paris;  1727.  There 

are  nine  drawings  by  Charles  Coypel,  engraved  by  the  Comte  de 
Caylus,  and  ornamental  woodcut  head  and  tail  pieces.  In  1728  an 
edition  of  this  book  was  published  at  Rotterdam,  the  engravings 
for  which  were  made  from  Coypel’s  drawings  by  Otten.  Les 
Chats  was  published  anonymously. 

Percheron,  Gaston:  Le  Chat:  histoire  naturelle;  hygiene;  maladies; 

Firmin-Didot  et  Cie. ; Paris;  1885.  Illustrations  from  drawings. 
Repplier,  Agnes:  The  Fireside  Sphinx;  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.; 

Boston;  1902,  The  illustrations  are  by  Elisabeth  F.  Bonsall. 

310 


Bibliography 

Ross,  Charles  Henry:  The  Book  of  Cats,  a chit-chat  chronicle  of 

feline  facts  and  fancies,  legendary,  lyrical,  medical,  mirthful,  and 
miscellaneous;  Griffith  and  Farran;  London;  1868.  With  twenty 
illustrations  by  the  author. 

Simpson,  Frances:  The  Book  of  the  Cat;  Cassell  and  Co.,  Ltd.; 

London;  1903.  With  twelve  coloured  plates  and  nearly  three 
hundred  and  fifty  illustrations  in  the  text  from  drawings  and 
photographs. 

Weir,  Harrison:  Our  Cats  and  All  About  Them,  their  varieties, 

habits,  and  management;  and  for  show,  the  standard  of  excellence 
and  beauty;  described  and  pictured;  R.  Clements;  Tunbridge 
Wells;  1889.  This  book  was  published  in  America  by  Houghton, 
Mifflin  and  Co.;  Boston,  the  same  year.  With  numerous  illustra- 
tions by  the  author.  There  is  a large  paper  edition  of  the  English 
issue. 

Winslow,  Helen  M.:  Concerning  Cats,  my  own  and  some  others; 

Lothrop  Publishing  Co.;  Boston;  I9CX>.  Illustrated  with  photo- 
graphs. 


Ill 

VARIETIES,  BREEDING,  CARE,  AND  DISEASES 

Aspinwall,  Grace:  Pussies,  Plebeian  and  Royal;  Good  Housekeeping; 

August  1909;  Vol.  49,  P.  178.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 
Barton,  Frank  Townend:  The  Cat:  its  points  and  management  in 

health  and  disease;  Everett  and  Co.;  London;  1908.  Illustrated 
with  photographs  and  drawings. 

Bennett,  I.  D. : Cat  Fancy;  American  Homes  and  Gardens;  Novem- 

ber 1913;  Vol.  10,  P.  380.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Betelle,  Mabel  Nicholson:  One-cat  Cattery  and  how  to  make  it  pay; 

Country  Life  in  America;  January  15,  1912;  Vol  21.  Illustrated 
with  photographs. 

Bosworth,  Isabella  Essex:  The  Care  and  Training  of  the  House  Cat; 

Country  Life  in  America;  November  1907;  Vol.  13,  P.  72.  Il- 
lustrated with  photographs. 

Brown,  C.:  Cats  as  Money-makers;  Harper’s  Bazaar;  August  1912; 

Vol.  46,  P.  388.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

311 


Bibliography 

Brown,  Elizabeth  Frances:  The  Popular  Persian  Cat;  The  Country- 

side Magazine;  October  1915;  Vol.  21,  P.  218. 

Cat  Culture;  Spratt’s  Patent  (Am.)  Ltd.;  Newark,  N.  J.  Pamphlet. 
Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Champion,  Dorothy  Bevill:  Everybody’s  Cat  Book;  New  York;  1909. 

Illustrated  with  photographs.  This  book,  one  of  the  latest  and 
best  for  the  breeder  of  Persian  cats,  is  easily  procurable. 

Clayton,  G.  V.,:  A Treatise  on  the  Cat;  published  by  the  author; 

Chicago.  Pamphlet. 

Cornish-Bond,  Mabel:  Cat  Raising  as  a Business;  Munsey’s  Maga- 

zine; 1901.  Vol.  25,  P.  841.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 
Crandall,  Lee  S. : Pets;  their  history  and  their  care;  Henry  Holt  and 
Co;  New  York;  1917.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Cost,  the  Honourable  Lady:  The  Cat:  its  history,  diseases,  and  man- 

agement; Henry  J.  Drake;  London. 

Daniels,  Dr.  A.  C. : The  Cat  Doctor:  home  treatment  for  cats  and 

kittens;  published  by  the  author;  Boston;  1911.  Pamphlet. 

Diehl,  J.  E. : The  Domestic  Cat : different  breeds  and  varieties,  how 

to  keep  and  rear  them,  together  with  a treatise  of  their  diseases  — 
with  symptoms  and  remedies  for  them;  Associated  Fanciers;  Phil- 
adelphia; 1899.  Pamphlet. 

Ewart,  J.  Cossar;  The  principles  of  breeding  and  the  origin  of  domes- 
ticated breeds  of  animals;  U.  S.  Department  of  Agriculture; 
Bureau  of  Animal  Industry;  1912.  With  especial  reference  to  the 
theories  of  telegony  ^ and  saturation. 

Farrington,  E.  L:  A Palace  for  Cats;  Technical  World ; August  1914; 

Vol.  21,  P.  900.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Hall,  Kate  A.  Cat  Farming  in  California;  Overland  Monthly;  April 
1907;  N.  S.  Vol.  49,  P.  299.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Hill,  J.  Woodroffe:  The  Diseases  of  the  Cat;  William  R.  Jenkins; 

New  York;  1903.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Huidekoper,  Rush  Shippen:  The  Cat,  a guide  to  the  classification  and 

varieties  of  cats  and  a short  treatise  upon  their  care,  diseases,  and 

1 Telegony  is  the  name  given  to  the  hypothesis  that  the  offspring  of  a 
known  sire  sometimes  inherit  characteristics  from  a previous  mate  of  their 
dam.  Prof.  James  Cossar  Ewart:  The  Penicuik  Experiments,  1899,  put  tele- 

gony to  the  test  and  found  it  wanting.  Romanes  also  was  against  it  after 
investigation. 


312 


Bibliography 

treatment;  D.  Appleton  and  Co.;  New  York;  1895.  With  over 
thirty  illustrations  from  drawings  and  photographs. 

James,  Robert  Kent:  The  Angora  Cat:  how  to  breed,  train  and  keep 

it;  with  additional  chapters  on  the  history,  peculiarities  and  dis- 
eases of  the  animal;  James  Brothers;  Boston;  1898.  Illustrated 
with  photographs. 

Jennings,  John:  Domestic  and  Fancy  Cats:  a practical  treatise  on  their 

antiquity,  domestication,  varieties,  breeding,  management,  diseases, 
exhibition  and  judging;  L.  Upcott  Gill;  London;  1893.  Illus- 
trated with  drawings.  The  second  edition,  revised  and  consider- 
ably enlarged,  illustrated  with  photographs,  appeared  in  1901. 
This  book  may  be  recommended  to  the  breeder. 

L.  H.  F. : Her  Serene  Highness,  the  Cat;  Harper’s  Bazaar;  May  26, 
1900;  Vol.  33,  P.  222.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Lane,  Charles  Henry:  Rabbits,  Cats  and  Cavies:  descriptive  sketches 

of  all  recognized  exhibition  varieties  with  many  original  anecdotes ; 
J.  M.  Dent  and  Co.;  London;  1903.  With  over  one  hundred  il- 
lustrations by  Rosa  Bebb. 

Martling,  Harriet:  Cats  of  Leisure  and  Lineage;  Overland  Monthly; 

1900;  Vol.  36,  P.  460.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Miller,  Olive  Thorne  (Harriet  Mann  Miller):  Our  Home  Pets; 

how  to  keep  them  well  and  happy;  Harper  and  Brothers;  New 
York;  1894.  Pages  195-230  are  devoted  to  cats.  Illustrated  with 
drawings. 

Morrison,  F.H.S. : The  Aristocratic  Persian  Cat;  Country  Life  in 

America;  September  1908;  Vol.  14,  P.  446.  Illustrated  with 
photographs  by  A.  Radclyffe  Dugmore  and  others. 

Neel,  Edith  K. : Cats:  how  to  care  for  them  in  health  and  treat  them 

when  ill;  Boericke  and  Tafel;  Philadelphia;  1902.  Illustrated 
with  photographs  and  drawings.  This  small  manual,  which  is 
easily  procurable,  may  be  recommended. 

Roberts,  Walter  T. : Some  Celebrated  Cats  and  Their  Owners;  Cas- 

sell’s Magazine;  London;  1904;  Vol.  38,  P.  77.  Illustrated  with 
photographs. 

Roderick,  Virginia:  The  Aristocracy  of  Cats;  Everybody’s  Maga- 

zine; 1909;  Vol.  20,  P.  216.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Rule,  Philip  V. : The  Cat : its  natural  history,  domestic  varieties, 

management  and  treatment;  with  an  essay  on  feline  instinct  by 

313 


Bibliography 

Bernard  Perez;  Swan  Sonnenschein,  Lowery  and  Co.;  London; 
1887.  The  Illustrations  are  from  drawings. 

Rydall,  E.  H.:  The  Care  of  the  Cat;  Country  Life  in  America; 

August  1907;  Vol.  12,  P.  444.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Saint  Maur,  Kate  V.:  Caring  for  Home  Pets;  Woman’s  Home  Com- 

panion; July  1910;  Vol.  37,  P.  26. 

Simpson,  Frances:  Cats  for  Pleasure  and  Profit;  Sir  Isaac  Pitman  and 

Sons,  Ltd.;  London;  1909.  This  is  a new  and  revised  edition;  the 
original  title  was  Cats  and  All  About  Them.  With  twenty-five 
illustrations  from  photographs. 

Stables,  Gordon:  Cats,  their  humane  and  rational  treatment;  Cham- 

bers’s Journal;  September  8,  1883;  Vol.  60,  P.  572. 

Stables,  William  Gordon:  Cats,  their  points  and  characteristics,  with 

curiosities  of  cat  life,  and  a chapter  on  feline  ailments;  Dean  and 
Smith;  London;  1874.  Illustrated  with  a photographic  frontis- 
piece of  the  author  sitting  with  a retriever,  cat,  and  starling,  and 
seven  chromo-lithographs  of  prize  cats,  two  on  each  plate  and  one 
of  an  Abyssinian  cat. 

Stables,  William  Gordon:  The  Domestic  Cat;  G.  Routledge  and  Sons; 

London;  1876. 

Stanwood,  Harriet  B.:  Persian  Cats  for  Profit;  Country  Life  in 

America;  April  1915;  Vol.  27,  P.  90.  Illustrated  with  photo- 
graphs. 

Stecker,  C.  H.:  The  common-sense  care  of  Angora  cats;  Suburban 

Life;  November  1907;  Vol.  5,  P.  285.  Illustrated  with  photo- 
graphs by  Jessie  Tarbox  Beals  and  W.  F.  Sleight. 

The  Types  of  Cats;  Suburban  Life;  March  1908;  Vol.  6,  P.  184. 

Voogt,  Gos  de:  Our  Domestic  Animals,  their  habits,  intelligence  and 

usefulness;  translated  from  the  French  by  Katherine  P.  Wormeley; 
edited  for  America  by  Charles  William  Burkett;  Ginn  and  Co.; 
Boston;  1907.  The  section  on  the  cat  begins  on  P.  73.  Illus- 
trated with  photographs,  some  of  them  coloured. 

Wellington,  Arthur:  Beautiful  Pets;  Bostonian  (National  Maga- 
zine) ; February  1896;  Vol.  3,  P.  459.  Illustrated  with  photo- 
graphs. 


3H 


Bibliography 


IV 

NATURAL  HISTORY 

Aristotle:  History  of  Animals;  translated  by  Richard  Cressell;  Bohn 

Libraries;  London;  1862. 

Benton,  J.  R. : How  a falling  cat  turns  over;  Science;  New  York; 

January  ig,  1912;  N.  S.  Vol.  35,  P.  104.  This  is  a letter  in 
answer  to  W.  S.  Franklin. 

Bingley,  Reverend  W. : Animal  Biography  or  Popular  Zoology;  Three 

volumes;  London;  1813. 

Buffon,  Georges  Louis  Leclerc:  Histoire  naturelle,  generale,  et  par- 

ticuliere;  Paris;  1749-67. 

Cochrane,  Robert:  Four  Hundred  Animal  Stories;  W.  and  R. 

Chambers;  Edinburgh;  1897.  Cats,  Chapter  VI,  P.  196.  Il- 
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Doncaster,.  L.:  Sex-limited  Inheritance  in  Cats;  Science;  August  2, 

1912;  N.  S.  Vol.  36,  P.  144: 

Dureau  de  la  Mallu:  The  Cat:  researches  in  regard  to  the  ancient 

history  of  our  domestic  animals;  Edinburgh  New  Philosophical 
Journal;  July-October  1829;  Vol.  7,  P.  309. 

Elliot,  Daniel  Giraud:  A monograph  of  the  Felidae  or  Family  of 

the  Cats;  Published  for  subscribers  by  the  author;  London;  1883, 
large  folio,  with  forty-three  magnificent  coloured  plates  by  J. 
Wolf. 

Fabre,  Jean-Henri-Casimir : Our  Humble  Friends,  familiar  talks  on 

the  domestic  animals;  translated  from  the  French  by  Florence 
Constable  Bicknell;  Century  Co.;  New  York;  1918.  Illustrated 
with  drawings.  Chapter  XXVI,  P.  239,  The  Cat. 

Fairchild,  David:  Cats  as  Plant  Investigators;  Science;  October  19, 

igo6;  N.  S.  Vol.  24,  P.  498. 

Franklin,  W.  S.  How  a falling  cat  turns  over  in  the  air;  Science; 
igii;  N.  S.  Vol.  34,  P.  844.  This  is  a letter. 

Howe,  Freeland,  jr. : A case  of  abnormality  in  cats’  paws;  American 

Naturalist;  July  1902;  Vol.  36,  P.  511.  Illustrated  with 
diagrams. 

Hudson,  W.  H. : The  Book  of  a Naturalist;  George  H.  Doran  Co.; 

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Jesse,  Edward:  Gleanings  in  Natural  History;  John  Murray;  Lon- 

don; (new  edition)  1838.  Two  volumes. 

Little,  C.  C. : Preliminary  note  on  occurrences  of  a sex-limited  char- 

acter in  cats;  Science;  May  17,  1912;  N.  S.  Vol.  35,  P.  784. 

Lydekker,  R. : The  Pedigree  of  the  Cat;  Knowledge;  August  2,  1897; 

Vol.  20,  P.  1 81. 

Miles,  Alfred  H.:  1001  Animal  Anecdotes;  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Co.; 

New  York;  His  Grace  the  Cat,  P.  67.  With  sixteen  original 
drawings  and  photographs  by  Winifred  Austen  and  others. 

Miller,  Mrs.  Hugh:  Cats  and  Dogs,  or  notes  and  anecdotes  of  two 

great  families  of  the  animal  kingdom;  T.  Nelson  and  Sons;  Lon- 
don; 1872.  Illustrated.  The  first  six  chapters  are  concerned 
with  the  domestic  cat  and  his  wild  relatives.  Juvenile. 

Miller,  Olive  Thorne  (Harriet  Mann  Miller):  Queer  Pets  at 

Marcy’s;  E.  P.  Dutton  Co.;  New  York;  1880.  Illustrated  by 
J.  C.  Beard.  Juvenile. 

Natural  History  Anecdotes;  Leisure  Hour;  January  30,  1875;  Vol. 
24,  P.  74.  All  cat  anecdotes. 

Nicol,  Dr.  John:  The  Best  Cat  Story  Yet;  Scientific  American; 

October  28,  1905;  Vol.  93,  P.  339. 

Pennant,  Thomas:  British  Zoology;  printed  for  Benj.  White;  London; 

1776.  Four  volumes.  The  cat  is  in  Volume  i. 

Pocock,  R..  L:  The  question  of  our  two  types  of  tabby  cat;  Nature; 

September  8,  1910;  Vol.  84,  P.  298. 

Poulton,  Edward  B.:  Observations  on  heredity  in  cats  with  an  ab- 

normal number  of  toes;  Nature;  1883;  Vol.  29,  P.  20;  November 
II,  1885;  Vol.  35,  P.  38;  a letter  from  J.  Herbert  Wood:  No- 

vember 18,  1885;  Vol.  35,  P.  53;  a letter  from  William  White: 
December  9,  1885;  Vol.  35,  P.  125.  Illustrated  with  drawings 
of  paws. 

Puss’s  Pedigree;  Literary  Digest;  October  27,  1917;  Vol.  55. 

Robinson,  Louis:  Wild  Traits  in  Tame  Animals,  being  some  familiar 
studies  in  evolution ; William  Blackwood  and  Sons ; Edinburgh 
and  London;  1897;  The  Cat,  Chapter  IX,  P.  227.  Illustrations 
by  S.  T.  Dadd.  This  book  will  entertain  the  casual  reader  and 
stimulate  the  student. 


316 


Bibliography 

Rope,  G.  T. : Cats  with  abnormal  tastes ; The  Zoologist ; October 

1915 ; Series  4,  Vol.  19,  P.  393.  Cats  as  vegetarians,  etc. 

Topsell,  Edward:  The  History  of  Four-footed  Beasts;  E.  Cotes;  Lon- 

don; 1658.  Cats  on  P.  81  with  illustration.  A quaint  and 
amazing  book. 

Valmont  de  Bomare,  Jacques-Christophe:  Dictionnaire  raisonne  d’his- 

toire  naturelle;  Lyon-Paris;  (fourth  edition)  Year  VIII  (1800). 
Fifteen  volumes. 

Vickers,  H.  M.:  Origin  of  the  domestic  “blotched”  tabby  cat;  Na- 

ture; September  8-15,  1910;  Vol.  84,  Pages  298  and  331. 

White,  C.  A. : Permanence  of  domestic  instinct  in  the  cat ; Knowledge ; 

April  II,  1884;  Vol.  5,  P.  243.  C.  G.  D.  Roberts  and  Mary  E. 
Wilkins  Freeman  have  based  stories  on  this  incident  of  a cat  who 
made  shift  to  live  in  the  wilds  for  a year,  when  deserted,  but  who 
was  friendly  to  humans  when  they  appeared. 

Whiting,  Phineas  V.^:  The  tortoise-shell  cat;  American  Naturalist; 

August  1915;  Vol.  49,  P.  518. 

V 

ANATOMY  AND  BIOLOGY 

Anthony,  R. : Considerations  anatomiques  sur  la  region  sacro-caudale 

d’une  chatte  appartenant  a la  race  dite  “ anoure  ” de  I’ile  de  Man ; 
Bulletins  de  la  Societe  d’Anthropologie  de  Paris;  Paris;  1899; 
Series  IV,  Vol.  10,  P.  303.  Illustrated. 

Buchanan,  Lieut.  Col.  A.  (I.  M.  S.  M.  A.  M.  D.) : Cats  as  Plague 

Preventers;  British  Medical  Journal;  London;  October  24,  1908; 
Vol.  2,  P.  1231. 

Darwin,  Charles:  The  Descent  of  Man  and  Selection  in  Relation  to 

Sex;  John  Murray;  London.  Two  volumes. 

Darwin,  Charles:  The  Origin  of  Species;  John  Murray;  London. 

Darwin,  Charles:  The  Variations  of  Animals  and  Plants  Under  Do- 

mestication; John  Murray;  London. 

Davison,  Alvin:  Mammalian  Anatomy,  with  special  reference  to  the 

cat;  P.  Blakiston’s  Sons  and  Co.;  Philadelphia;  1903. 

Fritz,  W. : Uber  einen  Sinnesapparat  am  Unterarm  der  Katze  nebst 

Bemerkungen  fiber  den  Bau  des  Sinusbalzes;  Zeitschrift  fiir  wissen- 

8I7 


Bibliography 

schaftliche  Zoologie;  Leipzig;  1909;  Vol.  92,  P.  291.  Illus- 
trated. 

Gorham,  Frederick  P.,  and  Ralph  W.  Tower:  A Laboratory  Guide 

for  the  Dissection  of  the  Cat;  Charles  Scribner’s  Sons;  New  York; 
1903.  Illustrated  with  charts  drawn  by  F.  P.  Gorham. 

Hall,  G.  Stanley  and  C.  E.  Browne:  The  Cat  and  the  Child;  Peda- 

gogical Seminary;  Worcester,  Mass.;  1904;  Vol.  ii,  P.  3. 

Huber,  John  B.  (M.  D.)  : The  Disease  Carrying  Cat;  Collier’s; 

August  14,  1915  ; Vol.  55. 

Hyde,  Henrietta:  Collateral  circulation  in  the  cat  after  ligation  of 

the  postcava;  Kansas  University  Quarterly;  July  1900;  Vol.  ii, 
P.  167. 

Liadze,  Wissarion:  Die  Backen  — und  Lippendriisen  des  Hundes  und 

der  Katze;  E.  Birkhauser;  Basel;  1910.  Illustrated. 

Lyon,  Goffrey  A.;  Alimentary  parasites  of  felis  domestica ; Science; 

September  7,  1906;  N.  S.  Vol.  24,  P.  313. 

Millard,  Bailey:  War  Declared  Upon  the  Cat;  Illustrated  World; 

November  1915;  Vol.  24,  P.  339.  Illustrated  with  photograph. 
Miller,  William  Snow:  Variations  in  the  distribution  of  the  bile  duct 

of  the  cat;  Transactions  of  the  Wisconsin  Academy  of  Sciences, 
Arts,  and  Letters;  Madison,  Wisconsin;  1904;  Vol.  14,  P.  621. 
Mivart,  St.  George:  The  Cat:  an  introduction  to  the  study  of  back- 

boned animals,  especially  mammals;  John  Murray;  London;  1881. 
Charles  Scribner’s  Sons  issued  an  American  edition  the  same  year. 
With  two  hundred  illustrations  from  drawings. 

Morris,  Harry  Waldo:  The  carotid  arteries  and  their  relation  to 

the  circle  of  willis  in  the  cat ; Proceedings  of  the  Iowa  Academy  of 
Science  for  1906;  Des  Moines;  Vol.  13,  P.  251. 

Osborne,  Caroline  A.:  The  Cat:  a neglected  factor  in  sanitary  science; 

Pedagogical  Seminary;  Worcester,  Mass.;  1907;  Vol.  14,  P.  439. 
Reighard,  Jacob  and  H.  S.  Jennings:  The  Anatomy  of  the  Cat; 
Henry  Holt  and  Co.;  New  York;  1901.  With  one  hundred  and 
seventy-three  drawings  by  Louise  Burridge  Jennings. 

Stowell,  T.  B.:  The  Cat:  the  glossopharyngeal,  the  accessory  and 

hypoglossal  nerves  in  the  domestic  cat ; Read  before  the  American 
Philosophical  Society;  March  2,  1888.  Pamphlet. 

Wilder,  Burt  G.,  and  S.  H.  Gage:  Anatomical  Technology  as  Ap- 

plied to  the  Domestic  Cat;  an  introduction  to  human,  veterinary, 

318 


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and  comparative  anatomy;  A.  S.  Barnes  and  Co.;  New  York; 
1882. 

Wilder,  Burt  Green:  The  Anatomical  Uses  of  the  Cat;  D.  Appleton 

and  Co.  New  York;  1879.  Pamphlet. 

Wilder,  Burt  G. : The  Brain  of  the  Cat:  preliminary  account  of  the 

gross  anatomy;  Read  before  the  American  Philosophical  Society, 
July  15,  1881.  Pamphlet  with  fourteen  plates. 


VI 

PSYCHOLOGY 

Burroughs,  John:  The  Animal  Mind;  Atlantic  Monthly;  November 

1910;  Vol.  106,  P.  622. 

Burroughs,  John:  Animal  Wit  Indoors  and  Out;  Atlantic  Monthly; 

February  1912;  Vol.  109,  P.  196. 

Burroughs,  John:  Do  Animals  Think?;  Harper’s  Magazine;  Feb- 

ruary 1905;  Vol.  no,  P.  354. 

Burroughs,  John:  The  Reasonable  but  Unreasoning  Animals;  The 

Outlook;  December  14,  1907;  Vol.  87,  P.  809. 

Burroughs  John:  Ways  of  Nature;  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.;  Bos- 

ton; 1905. 

Cesaresco,  the  Countess  Evelyn  Martinengo:  The  Place  of  Animals  in 

Human  Thought;  Charles  Scribner’s  Sons;  New  York;  1909. 
Illustrated. 

Darwin,  Charles:  The  Expression  of  the  Emotions  in  Man  and 

Animals;  John  Murray;  London.  Illustrated. 

Dixon,  Royal:  The  Human  Side  of  Animals;  Frederick  A.  Stokes 

Co.;  New  York;  1918.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Evans,  E.  P. : Evolutionary  Ethics  and  Animal  Psychology ; D.  Ap- 

pleton and  Co.;  New  York;  1898. 

Groos,  Karl:  Die  Spiele  der  Thiere;  Gustav  Fischer;  Jena;  1896. 

Translated  with  the  co-operation  of  the  author  as  the  Play  of  Ani- 
mals, by  E.  L.  Baldwin,  with  a preface  and  an  appendix  by  J.  Mark 
Baldwin;  D.  Appleton  & Co.;  New  York;  1898. 

Hachet-Souplet:  L’Intelligence  des  Chats:  Bulletin  de  I’lnstitut 

General  Psych ologique ; Annee  HI;  Paris;  1903;  P.  128. 

3^9 


Bibliography 

Holmes,  S.  J. : Studies  in  Animal  Behaviour;  Richard  G.  Badger;  Bos- 
ton; 1916. 

Lindsay,  W.  Lauder;  Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals;  D.  Appleton  and 
Co.;  New  York;  1880.  Two  volumes. 

Lloyd,  Morgan  C. : Animal  Behaviour;  Edward  Arnold;  London; 

1900. 

Menault,  Ernest:  L’Intelligence  des  Animaux;  Paris;  1869  (second 

edition).  Illustrated  by  E.  Bayard,  A.  Mesnel,  etc.  Le  Chat, 
Pages  264-70.  Charles  Scribner  and  Co.,  in  1869,  published  an  il- 
lustrated translation  of  this  book  as  The  Intelligence  of  Animals. 
Mills,  T.  Wesley:  The  Cat;  The  Dog;  The  Cat  and  the  Dog  Com- 

pared; McGill  University;  Papers  from  the  Department  of  Physi- 
ology; Montreal;  1896.  Pamphlet. 

Mills,  Wesley:  The  Nature  and  Development  of  Animal  Intelligence; 

Macmillan  Co.;  New  York;  1898. 

Perrens,  F.  T. : Memoires  de  Mes  Chattes;  Revue  Scientifique ; Paris; 

1899.  Series  IV,  Vol.  12,  Pages  417,  461,  and  491,  and  Vol.  15 
(1901),  P.  398. 

Pierquin  de  Gembloux;  Traite  de  la  Folie  des  Animaux;  Paris,  1859. 
Romanes,  George  John:  Animal  Intelligence;  D.  Appleton  and  Co.; 

New  York;  1883;  Chapter  XIV,  P.  41 1,  is  devoted  to  the  cat. 
Romanes,  George  John:  Essays  (edited  by  C.  Lloyd  Morgan)  ; 

Longmans,  Green,  and  Co.;  London;  1897. 

Romanes,  George  John ; Mental  Evolution  in  Animals ; Kegan  Paul, 
Trench  and  Co.;  1883. 

Shepherd,  W.  T. ; The  discrimination  of  articulate  sounds  by  cats; 

American  Journal  of  Psychology;  July  1912;  Vol.  23,  P.  461. 
Shepherd,  W.  T. : Tests  in  adaptive  intelligence  in  dogs  and  cats,  as 

compared  with  adaptive  intelligence  in  Rhesus  monkeys;  American 
Journal  of  Psychology;  April  16,  1915;  Vol.  26,  P.  211. 

Smith,  E.  M.:  The  Investigation  of  Mind  in  Animals;  Cambridge 

University  Press;  1915. 

Thompson,  Edward  P. : The  Passions  of  Animals ; Chapman  and 

Hall;  London;  1851. 

Thorndike,  Edward  L. : Animal  Intelligence:  Experimental  Studies; 

Macmillan  Co.;  New  York;  1911.  Illustrated  with  diagrams. 
Vevey,  Artault  de:  Des  Actes  Raisonnes  chez  le  Chat;  Bulletin  de 

rinstitut  General  Psychologique ; Paris;  1903;  Annee  HI;  P.  13. 

320 


Bibliography 

Washburn,  Margaret  Floy:  The  Animal  Mind,  a text  book  of  com- 

parative psychology;  Macmillan  Co.;  New  York;  1908. 

Watson,  Rev.  John  Selby:  The  Reasoning  Power  in  Animals;  Reeve 

and  Co.;  London;  1867.  The  cat.  Chapter  XXV,  P.  247;  Chap- 
ter XXX,  P.  322. 


VII 

LANGUAGE 

Bolton,  H.  Carrington:  The  Language  used  in  talking  to  domestic 

animals;  Judd  and  Detweiler;  Washington,  D.  C. ; 1897.  Pam- 
phlet. Cats,  P.  40. 

Bougeant,  G.  H. : Amusement  philosophique  sur  le  langage  des  bestes; 

Paris;  1739. 

Pierquin  de  Gembloux:  Idiomologie  des  Animaux,  ou  recherches  his- 

toriques,  anatomiques,  physiologiques,  philologiques,  et  glossolog- 
iques  sur  le  language  des  betes;  A la  Tour  de  Babel;  Paris;  1844. 


VIII 

HUMANITARIAN 

Brewster,  Edwin  Tenney:  The  City  of  4,000,000  cats;  McClure’s 

Magazine;  New  York;  1912;  Vol.  39,  P.  54.  Illustrated  with 
photographs. 

Gohier,  Urbain:  Les  Betes;  Librairie  Leon  Vanier;  Paris;  19 ii.  Les 

cbats  au  cirque,  P.  34. 

Helps,  Sir  Arthur:  Some  talk  about  animals  and  their  masters; 

Strahan  and  Co.;  London;  1873. 

Kindness  to  Animals,  illustrated  by  stories  and  anecdotes;  W.  and  R. 
Chambers;  London  and  Edinburgh;  1877.  Anecdotes  of  cats,  P. 

85. 

Salt,  H.  S. : Animals’  Rights ; with  an  essay  on  vivisection  in  America 

by  Albert  Leffingwell,  M.  D. ; Macmillan  and  Co.;  New  York 
and  London;  1894. 


321 


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IX 

CATS  AND  BIRDS 

Barrett,  E.  N. : The  Bird-Cat  Question;  The  Outlook;  December 

27,  1916;  Vol.  1 14,  P.  965. 

Brewster,  William:  A Blameless  Cat;  Bird-Lore;  May  1918;  Vol. 

20,  P.  21 1. 

Cats  and  Birds;  Bird-Lore;  September  1915;  Vol.  17,  P.  408. 
Chapouille,  Arthur:  A plea  for  puss  and  her  victims;  Good  House- 

keeping; May  1911;  Vol.  52,  P.  564. 

Forbush,  Edward  Howe:  The  Domestic  Cat:  bird  killer,  mouser,  and 

destroyer  of  wild  life;  means  of  utilizing  and  controlling  it; 
Wright  and  Potter  Printing  Co;  Boston;  1916.  This  is  a pam- 
phlet issued  by  the  State  of  Massachusetts.  Forbush  is  (or  was) 
the  State  Ornithologist.  Illustrated  with  drawings  and  photo- 
graphs. 

Forbush,  Edward  Howe:  Facts  About  Cats;  Bird-Lore;  March  1915; 

Vol.  17,  P.  165. 

Forbush,  Edward  Howe:  What  are  we  going  to  do  about  the  cat?; 

Ladies’  Home  Journal;  March  1917. 

The  House-Cat  Indicted;  Current  Opinion;  April  1917;  Vol.  62, 
P.  289. 

Hunt,  Emily  G. : How  to  enjoy  both  birds  and  cats;  Country  Life 

in  America;  February  1915;  Vol.  27,  P.  52.  Illustrated  with 
photographs. 

Mason,  Walt:  The  Conservation  of  Cats;  Collier’s;  November  8, 

1913;  Vol.  52. 

Pearson,  T.  Gilbert:  Cats  and  Birds;  Art  World;  May  1917;  Vol. 

2,  P.  202.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Professor  R.  J.  H.  de  Loach  writes  about  the  house  cat ; Home 
Progress;  March  1914;  Vol.  3,  P.  326. 

A Question  for  unprejudiced  consideration:  the  house  cat;  Bird-Lore; 
January  1915;  Vol.  17,  P.  54. 

Raymond,  William:  The  marauding  cat;  Country  Life  (English); 

June  5,  1915  ; Vol.  37,  P.  780.  With  four  illustrations  from  photo- 
graphs. 


322 


Bibliography 


X 

LAW 

Cat,  a “ domestic  animal  ” and  “ property  ” ; The  American  Law 
Review;  December  1915;  Vol.  49,  P.  917. 

Evans,  E.  P. : The  Criminal  Prosecution  and  Capital  Punishment  of 

Animals;  William  Heinemann;  London;  1906.  Illustrated  with 
engravings. 

Ingham,  John  H. : The  Law  of  Animals,  a treatise  on  property  in 

animals,  wild  and  domestic,  and  the  rights  and  responsibilities  aris- 
ing therefrom;  T.  and  J.  W.  Johnson;  Philadelphia;  1900. 
Rogers,  R.  Vashon:  Cats;  The  Green  Bag;  Boston;  August  1891; 

Vol.  3,  P.  350. 

Rolfe,  Gertrude  B. : The  Cat  in  Law;  North  American  Review; 
February  1895;  Vol.  160,  P.  251. 


XI 

FOLKLORE  AND  RELIGION 

Berenger-Feraud,  Laurent-Jean-Baptiste:  Reminiscences  populaires  de 

la  Provence;  Ernest  Leroux;  Paris,  1885. 

Berenger-Feraud,  Laurent-Jean-Baptiste:  Superstitions  et  Survivances, 

etudiees  au  point  de  vue  de  leur  origine  et  de  leurs  transforma- 
tions; Ernest  Leroux;  Paris;  1896.  Two  volumes. 

Bergen,  Fanny  D. : Animal  and  Plant  Lore,  collected  from  the  oral 

tradition  of  English  speaking  people,  with  an  introduction  by 
Joseph  Y,  Bergen;  Houghton,  Mifflin,  and  Co.;  Boston;  1899. 

Buckner,  E.  D. : The  Immortality  of  Animals,  and  the  relation  of  man 

as  guardian  from  a Biblical  and  philosophical  hypothesis;  George 
W.  Jacobs  and  Co.;  Philadelphia;  1903. 

Budge,  E.  A.  Wallis:  The  Gods  of  the  Egyptians  or  Studies  in  Egyp- 

tian Mythology;  Methuen  and  Co.;  London;  1904.  With  ninety- 
eight  coloured  plates  and  one  hundred  and  thirty-one  illustrations 
in  the  text. 

Campbell,  John  Gregorson:  Superstitions  of  the  Highlands  and  Islands 

of  Scotland;  James  MacLehose  and  Sons;  Glasgow;  1900. 

323 


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Collin  de  Plancy,  J. : Dictionnaire  Infernal;  Paul  Mellier;  Paris; 

1844  (third  edition). 

Conway,  Moncure  Daniel:  Demonology  and  Devil-lore;  Henry  Holt 

and  Co.;  New  York;  1879.  Two  volumes  with  numerous  illus- 
trations. 

Dyer,  T.  F.  Thiselton:  The  Cat  and  its  Folk-lore;  Gentleman’s 
Magazine;  May  1882;  N.  S.  Vol.  28,  P.  604. 

Dyer,  T.  F.  Thiselton:  English  Folk-lore;  Hardwicke  and  Bogue; 

London;  1878. 

Ennemoser,  Joseph:  The  History  of  Magic;  translated  from  the  Ger- 

man by  William  Howitt;  Bohn’s  Library;  London;  1854;  Two 
volumes. 

Fitzgerald,  David:  The  Cat  in  Legend  and  Myth;  Belgravia;  Lon- 

don; November  1885;  Vol.  58,  P.  98. 

Fornaro,  Carlo  de:  White  Lotus:  the  legend  of  the  cat’s  eye;  Marcus 

and  Co.;  New  York;  1901.  Illustrations  by  the  author. 

Frazer,  J.  G. : The  Golden  Bough,  a study  in  magic  and  religion; 

Macmillan  and  Co. ; London.  Third  edition  in  twelve  volumes, 
1911-15. 

Gubernatis,  Angelo  de:  Zoological  Mythology,  or  the  legends  of 

animals;  Triibner  and  Co.;  London;  1872.  Two  volumes.  Vol. 
2,  Chapter  VII,  P.  41,  for  the  cat. 

Hamel,  Frank:  Human  Animals;  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Co.;  New 

York;  1915. 

Hargrove,  Ethel  C. : The  Psychic  Significance  of  the  Cat;  Occult 
Review;  London;  1917;  Vol.  25,  P.  337. 

Harwood,  W.  S. : The  mummification  of  cats  in  ancient  Egypt ; Scien- 

tific American;  June  9,  1900;  Vol.  82,  P.  361. 

Hazlitt,  William  Carew:  Faiths  and  Folklore:  a dictionary;  a new 

and  alphabetically  arranged  edition  of  Brand’s  Antiquities;  Reeves 
and  Turner;  London;  1905. 

Hearn,  Lafcadio:  Japanese  Fairy  Tales;  The  Boy  Who  Drew  Cats, 

P.  29;  Boni  and  Liveright;  New  York;  1918.  Originally  pub- 
lished in  Japan  with  charming  illustrations. 

Hone,  William:  The  Every-Day  Book;  Thomas  Tegg;  London ; 1826- 

1830.  Three  volumes. 

James,  Hartwell:  The  Cat  and  the  Mouse:  a book  of  Persian  fairy 

tales;  edited  with  an  introduction  by  Hartwell  James;  Henry 

324 


Bibliography 

Altemus  Co.;  Philadelphia;  1906.  With  forty  illustrations  by 
John  R.  Neill. 

Kipling,  John  Lockwood;  Beast  and  Man  in  India,  a popular  sketch  of 
Indian  animals  in  their  relations  with  the  people;  Macmillan  and 
Co.;  London;  1891.  Cats,  P.  282.  Illustrated  with  drawings. 

Lean’s  Collectanea:  Collections  by  Vincent  Stuckey  Lean  of  proverbs, 

English  and  foreign,  folklore,  and  superstitions,  also  compilations 
towards  dictionaries  of  proverbial  phrases  and  words,  old  and  dis- 
used; J.  W.  Arrowsmith ; Bristol;  1902.  Five  volumes. 

Meller,  Walter  Clifford:  A Brief  for  Animal  Immortality;  G.  Bell 

and  Sons;  London;  1911. 

O’Donnell,  Elliott:  Animal  Ghosts;  William  Rider  and  Sons;  Lon- 

don; 1913.  Cats,  P.  3-56. 

Phipson,  Emma:  Animal  Lore  in  Shakespeare’s  Time;  Kegan  Paul, 

Trench  and  Co.;  London;  1883. 

Ralston,  W.  R.  S. : Krilof  and  his  fables ; Strahan  and  Co. ; London ; 

1869.  The  following  are  cat  stories:  The  Pike  and  the  Cat, 

P.  27;  The  Cook  and  the  Cat,  P.  45;  The  Cat  and  the  Night- 
ingale, P.  167;  and  The  Wolf  and  the  Cat,  P.  171.  Illustrated 
with  drawings. 

The  Rat’s  Plaint:  translated  from  the  Chinese  by  Archibald  Little; 
T.  Hasegawa;  Tokyo;  1891.  Illustrated  with  many  drawings  in 
colour. 

Rozan,  Charles;  Le  chat  dans  les  proverbes;  Monde  Moderne;  Paris; 
1901;  Vol.  13,  P.  650-  Illustrated  with  drawings. 

Visser,  Dr.  M.  W.  de:  The  Dog  and  the  Cat  in  Japanese  Super- 

stition; Transactions  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan;  1909;  Vol. 
37,  P-  I- 

Wood,  Rev.  J.  G. : Man  and  Beast:  Here  and  Hereafter;  George 

Routledge  and  Sons;  London;  1875  ( ?). 

XII 

FICTION 

Aesop:  Three  Hundred  Fables,  translated  by  Rev.  Geo.  Fyler  Town- 

send; George  Routledge  and  Sons;  London;  1867.  The  Cat  and 
the  Cock,  P.  27;  The  Cat  and  the  Birds,  P.  46;  The  Cat  and  the 


Bibliography 

Mice;  P.  103;  and  The  Cat  and  Venus,  P.  214.  This  edition 
is  illustrated  by  Harrison  Weir. 

Alden,  W.  L. : The  Cats  of  Piacenza;  Harper’s  Monthly;  August 

1906;  Vol.  1 13,  P.  398.  Illustrated  by  May  Wilson  Preston. 

Alden,  W.  L. : Cat  Tales:  eleven  somewhat  fantastic  stories  about 

cats;  Digby,  Long  and  Co.;  London;  1905.  Illustrated  by  Louis 
Wain. 

Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey:  The  Story  of  a Cat,  translated  from  the 

French  of  fimile  de  la  Bedolliere;  Houghton,  Osgood  and  Co.; 
Boston;  1878.  With  many  designs  in  silhouette  by  Hopkins. 
There  is  a French  nursery  rhyme  on  this  subject  which  you  may 
find  on  P.  234  of  Miss  Repplier’s  The  Fireside  Sphinx,  or  trans- 
lated on  P.  169  of  Miss  Repplier’s  The  Cat. 

Allen,  Willis  Boyd:  The  Head  of  Pasht;  E.  P.  Dutton  and  Co.;  New 

York ; 1900.  There  is  a head  of  Pasht  on  the  cover  and  on  the  title 
page. 

Archibald  the  Cat,  and  other  sea  yarns,  by  “ the  old  sailor  ” ; “ out  of 
The  World”;  published  by  the  New  York  World;  New  York; 
1878.  The  title  story  is  the  only  cat  story.  The  illustrations  are 
by  F.  S.  Church. 

Babcock,  Edwina  Stanton:  From  the  Diary  of  a Cat;  Harper’s  Maga- 

zine; August  1904;  Vol.  109,  P.  487.  Illustrations  by  Stroth- 
mann. 

Bacon,  Peggy:  The  True  Philosopher  and  other  cat  tales;  The 

Four  Seas  Co.;  Boston;  1919.  Illustrated  with  etchings  by  the 
author. 

Balzac,  Honore  de:  Peines  de  coeur  d’une  chatte  anglaise;  first  pub- 

lished in  Vie  Privee  et  Publique  des  Animaux.  In  the  edition  of 
Balzac  (Oeuvres  Complies)  issued  by  Calmann  Levy,  Paris,  1879, 
this  story  is  to  be  found  in  Vol.  21,  Oeuvres  Diverses. 

Bell,  J.  J. : Mr.  Pennycook’s  Boy;  Harper  and  Brothers;  New  York; 

1905.  Poor  Pussy,  P.  263. 

Bell,  J.  J. : Wanted  — A Pussy-Mew;  The  Bellman;  March  3,  1917; 

Vol.  22,  P.  236. 

Bierce,  Ambrose:  Can  Such  Things  Be?:  Collected  Works;  Neale 

Publishing  Co.;  New  York  and  Washington;  1910.  John  Mor- 
tonson’s  Funeral,  P.  252,  is  a cat  story. 

Bierce,  Ambrose:  Fantastic  Fables;  G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons;  New  York; 

326 


Bibliography 

1899;  The  Cat  and  the  King,  P.  27;  The  Cat  and  the  Youth, 
P.  159;  The  Cat  and  the  Birds,  P.  161. 

Blackwood,  Algernon:  The  Empty  Sleeve;  The  London  Magazine; 

January  1911;  P.  552. 

Blackwood,  Algernon:  John  Silence:  Physician  Extraordinary; 

John  W.  Luce  and  Co.;  Boston;  1909.  Case  I:  A Psychical  In- 
vasion, and  Case  II:  Ancient  Sorceries,  are  cat  stories. 

Blackwood,  Algernon:  Pan’s  Garden;  Macmillan  and  Co.;  London; 

1912.  The  Attic,  P.  137,  is  a cat  story.  Illustrated  by  W. 
Graham  Robertson. 

Brouse,  Marian  M.:  The  cat  that  tried  to  be  stylish;  Woman’s  Home 

Companion;  April  1914.  Illustrated  by  Kerr  Eby. 

Bulwer-Lytton,  Edward:  Eugene  Aram. 

Burgess,  Gelett:  The  White  Cat;  A.  Wessels  Co.;  New  York;  1908. 
This  is  a story  of  dissociated  personality  in  which  the  fairy  tale 
of  The  White  Cat  is  used  as  a symbol. 

Caillot,  Jules  Severin:  Contes  apres  les  contes;  Plon-Nourrit  et  cie. ; 

Paris;  1919.  La  Chatte  Blanche,  P.  67. 

Carroll,  Lewis:  Alice  in  Wonderland.  Illustrated  by  John  Tenniel. 

Carroll,  Lewis:  Through  the  Looking  Glass.  Illustrated  by  John 

Tenniel. 

Carruth,  Hayden:  The  Adventures  of  Jones;  Harper  and  Brothers; 

New  York;  1895.  The  Cat  Motor,  P.  7 and  The  Wild-cat 
Frightener,  P.  48. 

Carryl,  Guy  Wetmore:  Zut,  and  other  Parisians;  Houghton,  Mifflin 

Co.;  Boston;  1903.  The  title  story  is  a cat  story. 

Chambers,  Robert  W. : The  King  in  Yellow;  F.  Tennyson  Neely; 
Chicago  — New  York;  1895.  The  Repairer  of  Reputations  and 
The  Street  of  the  Four  Winds  are  cat  stories. 

Corrothers,  James  David:  The  Black  Cat  Club,  Negro  humor  and 

folklore;  Funk  and  Wagnalls;  New  York;  1902.  Illustrated  by 
J.  K.  Bryans. 

Davey,  Robert  M.:  The  Pinckney  Street  Cats;  New  England  Maga- 

zine; September  1911 ; N.  S.  Vol.  45,  P.  40. 

Ensign,  Hermon  Lee:  Lady  Lee  and  other  animal  stories;  A.  C. 

McClurg;  Chicago;  1902.  Union  Square  Jim,  P.  67  and  Baby 
and  the  Kitten,  P.  17 1 are  cat  stories.  Illustrated  by  J.  Carter 
Beard. 


327 


Bibliography 

Felissa:  or  the  life  and  opinions  of  a kitten  of  sentiment;  J.  Harris; 
London;  i8ii.  With  twelve  coloured  plates.  Methuen  and  Co., 
London,  reprinted  this  book  in  1903. 

Fernald,  Chester  B:  The  Cat  and  the  Cherub,  and  other  stories; 

The  Century  Co.;  New  York;  1896.  One-Two,  the  white  and 
blue  Angora,  appears  in  The  Cat  and  the  Cherub  and  The  Cruel 
'Fhousand  Years.  With  one  illustration  by  Grace  Wetherell. 
The  cover  design  depicts  the  cat  and  the  cherub. 

France,  Anatole:  Le  Crime  de  Sylvestre  Bonnard;  Calmann-Levy ; 

Paris. 

Freeman,  Mary  E.  Wilkins:  Understudies;  Harper  and  Brothers; 

New  York;  1901.  The  Cat  is  the  title  of  the  story. 

Freeman,  Mary  E.  Wilkins:  A Humble  Romance  and  other  stories; 

Harper  and  Brothers;  New  York;  1887.  An  Object  of  Love, 
P.  266,  is  a cat  story. 

George,  W.  L. : Blind  Alley;  T.  Fisher  Unwin;  London;  1919. 

Graham,  R.  B.  Cunninghame:  Success,  and  other  sketches;  Duckworth 

and  Co.;  London;  1902.  Terror,  P.  109. 

Greene,  Frederick  Stuart:  The  Cat  of  the  Cane-Brake;  Metropolitan 

Magazine;  August  1916;  Vol.  44.  Illustrations  by  Worth 
Brehm. 

The  Guardian  Cat:  Every  Saturday;  October  I2,  1872.  Reprinted 

from  Chambers’s  Journal. 

Hamilton,  Allan  McLane:  Herr  von  Striempfell’s  Experiment; 

The  Century;  April  1891  ; Vol.  41,  P.  89. 

Hamm,  Margherita  Arlina:  The  Cat  Coquette;  The  Century;  Oc- 

tober 1905;  Vol.  70,  P.  823.  Illustrations  by  Jay  Hambidge. 
Hearn,  Lafcadio:  Fantastics  and  Other  Fancies;  Houghton,  Mifflin 

and  Co.;  Boston;  1914.  The  Little  Red  Kitten,  P.  33. 

Henty,  G.  A.:  The  Cat  of  Bubastes:  a tale  of  ancient  Egypt;  Blackie 

and  Son;  London;  1889. 

Hubbard,  Elbert:  Pig-Pen  Pete,  or  Some  Chums  of  Mine;  Roy- 

crofters  Shop;  East  Aurora,  N.  Y. ; 1914.  The  Black  Cat,  P. 
157;  Our  Emmiline,  P.  169. 

H uysmans,  J.  K. : En  Rade ; Plon-Nourrit  et  Cie ; Paris. 

Jackson,  Gabrielle  E.:  Little  Comrade:  the  story  of  a cat,  and  other 
animal  stories;  D.  Appleton  and  Co.;  New  York;  1905.  With 
a picture  of  Little  Comrade.  Juvenile. 

328 


Bibliography 

Jackson,  Helen  (H.  H.)  : Cat  Stories:  Letters  from  a Cat;  Mammy 

Tittleback  and  her  Family;  The  Hunter  Cats  of  Connorloa; 
Little  Brown  and  Co.;  Boston;  1903.  The  illustrations  for  the 
first  two  stories  are  by  Addie  Ledyard;  those  for  the  last  from 
photographs  and  drawings.  Juvenile. 

Janvier,  Thomas  A.:  From  the  South  of  France;  Harper  and  Broth- 

ers; New  York;  1912.  Illustrations  by  Frank  Craig.  Madame 
Jolicoeur’s  Cat,  P.  137. 

Janvier,  Thomas  A.:  In  the  Sargasso  Sea;  Harper  and  Brothers;  New 

York;  1898.  Cat  in  Chapter  XXXII,  P.  236  et  seqq. 

Janvier,  Thomas  A. : The  Passing  of  Thomas,  and  other  stories ; 

Harper  and  Brothers;  New  York;  1900.  The  title  story  is  a 
cat  story.  Illustrations  by  Charles  Dana  Gibson. 

Janvier,  Thomas  A.:  Stories  of  Old  New  Spain;  D.  Appleton  and 

Co.;  New  York;  1891.  San  Antonio  of  the  Gardens  is  a cat  story. 
Kari:  Madame  Tabby’s  Establishment;  Macmillan  and  Co.;  London; 

1886.  Illustrations  by  Louis  Wain.  Juvenile. 

Keller,  Gottfried:  Spiegel,  das  Katzchen,  in  Die  Leute  von  Seldwyla; 

1856. 

Kendall,  May:  Billy;  Longman’s  Magazine;  December  1903;  Vol.  43, 

P.  163. 

Kipling,  Rudyard:  In  Black  and  White:  The  Sending  of  Dana  Da 

is  a cat  story. 

Kipling,  Rudyard:  Just  So  Stories:  The  Cat  that  Walked  by  Himself. 

With  illustrations  by  the  author. 

Knatchbull-Hugessen,  E.  H.  (M.  P.)  : Puss-Cat  Mew,  and  other 

stories  for  my  children;  Harper  and  Brothers;  New  York;  1871. 
With  illustrations.  The  first  story  is  the  only  cat  story.  Juv- 
enile. 

Loti,  Pierre:  Le  Livre  de  la  Pitie  et  de  la  Mort;  Calmann-Levy ; Paris. 

This  book  contains  two  cat  stories:  Une  bHe  galeuse,  P.  27,  and 

Vies  de  deux  chattes,  P.  47.  The  latter,  translated  by  M.  B. 
Richards  as  Lives  of  Two  Cats  and  illustrated  by  C.  E.  Allen, 
was  published  by  Dana  Estes  and  Co.;  Boston,  1902. 

Loti,  Pierre:  Le  Mariage  de  Loti;  Calmann-Levy;  Paris. 

Lyman,  Edward  Branch:  Me’ow  Jones,  Belgian  Refugee  Cat,  his 

own  true  tale  as  written  down  by  E.  B.  L. ; George  H.  Doran ; 
New  York;  1917.  Illustrated  by  Julia  Daniels. 

329 


Bibliography 

Mirbeau,  Octave;  La  Vache  Tachetee;  Ernest  Flammarion;  Paris. 

Le  petit  gardeur  de  vaches,  P.  40,  is  a cat  story. 

Morley,  Charles:  Peter:  a cat  o’  one  tail:  his  life  and  adventures; 

G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons;  New  York-London;  1892.  Illustrated  by 
Louis  Wain,  Peter’s  proprietor. 

Mulford,  Prentice:  The  Family  Cat;  Hood’s  Comic  Annual  for 

1874;  London;  P.  50. 

A parable  for  philanthropists:  Atlantic  Monthly;  December  1919;  Vol. 

124,  P.  861. 

Patteson,  S.  Louise:  Pussy  Meow;  the  autobiography  of  a cat,  with 

an  introduction  by  Sarah  K.  Bolton;  George  W.  Jacobs  and  Co.; 
Philadelphia;  1901.  Illustrated  with  drawings  and  photographs, 
Juvenile. 

Peple,  Edward:  A Night  Out;  Moffat,  Yard  and  Co.;  New  York; 

1909.  Frontispiece  by  R.  L.  Goldberg. 

Picard,  Gaston : La  confession  du  chat ; with  a preface  by  J.-H.  Rosny, 

aine;  Albin  Michel;  Paris;  1919.  The  title  story  is  the  only  cat 
story. 

Pinski  David:  Temptations;  Brentano’s;  New  York;  1919.  The 

Black  Cat. 

Poe,  Edgar  Allan : The  Black  Cat. 

Polko,  Elise:  Musical  Sketches;  Sturgis  and  Walton  Co.;  New  York; 

1909.  Translated  from  the  fifteenth  German  edition.  The  Cat’s 
Fugue,  P.  82.  This  is  the  story  of  Scarlatti  and  his  cat. 

Porter,  Eleanor  TL:  The  Tic  that  Binds;  Houghton,  Mifflin  Co.; 

1919.  Illustrated  by  Helen  Mason  Grose.  The  Cat  and  the 
Painter,  P.  i. 

Porter,  Eleanor  H.:  The  Cat  that  played  Cupid;  New  England 

Magazine;  June  1905;  N.  S.  Vol.  32,  P.  461. 

Powell,  G.  H.:  Animal  Episodes,  and  studies  in  sensation;  George 

Redway;  London;  1896.  The  Blue  Dryad,  P.  68,  is  a cat  story. 
Puckett,  G.  A.;  Ten  Kittens;  Burton  Publishing  Co.;  Kansas  City, 
Mo.  Illustrated  by  Helen  Walley. 

Pyle,  Katherine:  Stories  of  Humble  Friends;  American  Book  Co.; 

1902.  Illustrated  by  the  author.  Little  Brown  Hen,  P.  13; 
Flora  and  her  cat,  P.  118;  Limpety,  P.  138;  What  became  of 
the  kittens,  P.  178.  Juvenile.  , 

Rameau,  Jean:  Le  Chat  Nouveau-Riche;  Le  Petit  Journal;  Paris; 

330 


Bibliography 

December  g,  1919.  Translated  by  William  R.  McPherson  as 
The  Nouveau  Riche  Cat  this  story  appeared  in  the  New  York 
Tribune,  February  15,  1920. 

Rideout,  Henry  Milner:  The  Siamese  Cat;  Duffield  and  Co.;  New 

York;  1919. 

Robert,  Charles  G.  D. : Neighbours  Unknown;  Macmillan  Co.;  New 

York;  1911.  Illustrated  by  Paul  Branscom.  How  a cat  played 
Robinson  Crusoe,  P.  173. 

Roberts,  Morley:  The  Man  Who  Stroked  Cats,  and  other  stories; 

Eveleigh  Nash;  London;  1912.  The  title  story  is  the  only  cat 
story. 

Russell,  Robert  Howard:  The  Delft  Cat,  and  other  stories;  R.  H. 

Russell;  New  York;  1896.  Illustrations  by  F.  Berkeley  Smith. 
Juvenile. 

Saltus,  Edgar:  Purple  and  Fine  Women;  Ainslie  Publishing  Co.; 

New  York;  1903.  The  Top  of  the  Heap,  P.  207,  is  a cat  story. 

Saunders,  Marshall:  Pussy  Black-Face  or  the  story  of  a kitten  and 

her  friends:  a book  for  boys  and  girls;  L.  C.  Page  and  Co.; 

Boston;  1913.  Illustrations  by  Diantha  Horne  Marlowe.  Juven- 
ile. 

Seton,  Ernest  Thompson;  Animal  Heroes:  being  the  histories  of  a 
cat,  a dog,  a pigeon,  a lynx,  two  wolves,  and  a reindeer  and  in 
elucidation  of  the  same  over  two  hundred  drawings  by  the  author; 
the  designs  for  cover,  title-page,  and  general  makeup  by  Grace 
Gallatin  Seton;  Charles  Scribner’s  Sons;  New  York;  1905.  The 
Slum  Cat  is  the  first  story. 

Sologub,  Feodor:  The  Little  Demon.  Translated  by  John  Cournos 

and  Richard  Aldington;  Martin  Seeker;  London;  igi6. 

Southworth,  May  E. : The  Great  Small  Cat  and  Others:  seven  tales; 

Paul  Elder  and  Co.;  San  Francisco;  1914.  Illustrated  with  pho- 
tographs and  decorated  by  Pedro  J.  Lemos. 

Stables,  Gordon:  Shireen  and  her  Friends:  pages  from  the  life  of  a 

Persian  cat;  Jarrold  and  Sons;  London;  1894.  Three  full-page 
illustrations  by  Harrison  Weir.  This  book  is  dedicated  to  Swin- 
burne and  his  poem.  To  a Cat,  is  reprinted  in  it.  L.  C.  Page 
and  Co.  in  Boston  printed  an  American  edition. 

Swain,  Miranda  Eliot:  Daisy,  the  autobiography  of  a cat;  Noyes 

Brothers;  Boston;  1900.  With  a photograph  of  Daisy. 

331 


Bibliography 

Tarkington,  Booth:  Penrod  and  Sam;  Doubleday,  Page  and  Co.; 

New  York;  1916.  Illustrated  by  Worth  Brehm. 

Twain,  Mark;  Dick  Baker’s  Cat;  Screams;  1871.  Later  incorpor- 
ated in  Roughing  It;  American  Publishing  Co.;  Hartford;  1872; 
P-  439- 

Twain,  Mark:  Jim  Wolfe  and  the  Cats;  New  York  Sunday  Mer- 

cury; 1867;  Garrett’s  100  Choice  Selections,  No.  17;  1879;  This 
story  was  also  published  in  Hood’s  Comic  Annual  for  1874  under 
the  title,  A Yankee  Story  by  G.  R.  Wadleigh.  It  is  included  in 
the  anthology,  Werner’s  Readings:  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  244. 

Twain,  Mark:  The  Man  Who  Fought  Cats;  Practical  Jokes;  John 

Camden  Hotten;  London;  1872. 

Twain,  Mark:  The  Stolen  White  Elephant,  etc.;  James  R.  Osgood 

and  Co.;  Boston;  Some  Rambling  Notes  of  an  Idle  Excursion, 
P.  74,  for  some  Bermuda  cats. 

Vie  Privee  et  Publique  des  Animaux;  etudes  de  moeurs  contemporains, 
publiees  sous  la  direction  de  M.  P.-J.  Stahl,  avec  la  collaboration 
de  Messieurs  de  Balzac,  L.  Baude,  E.  de  la  Bedolliere,  P.  Bernard, 
J.  Janin,  Ed.  Lemoine,  Charles  Nodier,  George  Sand,  L’Heretier, 
Alfred  de  Musset,  Paul  de  Musset,  Madame  M.  Menessier-Nodier, 
Louis  Viardot.  J.  Hetzel ; Paris;  1842.  Two  volumes.  Illustra- 
tions by  Grandville.  The  cat  stories  are  Peines  de  coeur  d’une 
chatte  anglaise  by  Balzac;  Vol.  I,  P.  89,  and  Peines  de  coeur  d’une 
chatte  frangaise  by  P.-J.  Stahl;  Vol.  2,  P.  165.  The  edition  of 
1867  is  in  one  volume.  Translated  by  J.  Thomson  as  Public  and 
Private  Life  of  Animals,  this  book  was  published  in  London  by 
Sampson  Low,  Marston,  Searle,  and  Rivington  in  1877,  but  Balzac’s 
story  is  omitted  from  this  version.  Most  of  Grandville’s  draw- 
ings are  retained. 

Weyman,  Stanley  J. : The  Cat  and  the  King;  McClure’s;  October 

1895;  Vol.  5,  P.  438. 

White,  Eliza  Orne:  Brothers  in  Fur;  Houghton,  Mifflin  Co.;  Bos- 

ton; 1910.  Illustrated  with  photographs.  Juvenile. 

Wilkinson,  Elizabeth  Hays;  Peter  and  Polly;  Doubleday,  Page  and 
Co.;  New  York;  1912.  Illustrated  with  photographs  in  colour 
by  Cornelia  Clarke.  Juvenile. 

Willy  et  Colette  Willy:  Claudine  a I’Ecole;  Paul  Ollendorff;  Paris. 

Willy  et  Colette  Willy:  Claudine  a Paris;  Paul  Ollendorff;  Paris. 

332 


Bibliography 

Willy  et  Colette  Willy:  Claudine  en  Menage;  Mercure  de  France; 

Paris;  1902. 

Willy  et  Colette  Willy:  Claudine  s’en  va;  Paul  Ollendorff;  Paris. 

Woodrow,  Mrs.  Wilson:  The  Cat  and  the  Countess;  American 

Magazine  (Leslie’s  Monthly);  August  1905;  Vol.  60,  P.  373. 
Illustrated  with  drawings. 

Worts,  George  F. : The  Cat  and  the  Burglar;  Everybody’s  Magazine; 

April  1920;  Vol.  42,  No.  4,  P.  54. 

Zola,  fimile:  Nouveaux  Contes  a Ninon;  Bibliotheque-Charpentier ; 

Paris.  This  book  contains  the  story  Le  Paradis  des  Chats.  Trans- 
lated by  Edward  Vizetelly  as  Stories  for  Ninon  this  book  was 
issued  in  London  in  1895  by  William  Heinemann. 


XIII 

ESSAYS 

About  Cats;  London  Society;  January  1872;  Vol.  21,  P.  69.  Signed, 
Philo-felis. 

Achard,  Emile:  The  history  of  my  friends  or  home  life  with  animals; 

translated  from  the  French;  G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons;  New  York; 
1875.  Illustrated  with  drawings.  Matapon  the  First,  P.  180. 
Addison,  Joseph:  Cat-calls;  The  Spectator;  Thursday,  April  24, 

1712. 

Addison,  Joseph:  Moll  White  and  her  cat;  The  Spectator;  Saturday, 

July  4,  1711. 

Ailurophobia : Current  Literature;  August  1905;  Vol.  39,  P.  186. 

Quotations  from  S.  Weir  Mitchell  and  Andrew  Lang. 

Affable  Hawk:  Cats;  The  New  Statesman:  Books  in  General; 

February  28,  1920. 

Anecdotes  of  the  Cat:  Chambers’s  Miscellany;  Edinburgh;  Vol.  6. 

Atkins,  J.  B.:  Side-Shows;  Christophers;  London;  1908.  The  New 

Cat,  P.  I. 

Atom:  Cats;  Everyman;  London;  November  8,  1919. 

Barnicoat,  C.  A.:  The  Cat  and  the  Human;  Temple  Bar;  London; 

1906;  N.  S.  Vol.  2,  P.  162. 

333 


Bibliography 

Bates,  Katherine  Lee:  Sigurd  Our  Golden  Collie  and  other  com- 

rades of  the  road;  E.  P.  Dutton  and  Co.;  1919.  Catastrophes, 

P.  324. 

Belloc,  Hilaire:  On  Nothing  and  Kindred  Subjects;  Methuen  and 

Co. ; London ; 1908.  On  Them  is  an  essay  on  cats. 

Benson,  Margaret:  The  Soul  of  a Cat,  and  other  stories;  William 

Heinemann;  London;  1901.  Illustrations  from  photographs  and 
drawings  by  Henriette  Ronner.  G.  P.  Putnam  Sons  issued  the 
American  edition  in  New  York  the  same  year.  The  papers  of 
interest  to  cat-lovers  are:  Preface,  P.  V.;  The  Soul  of  a 

Cat,  P.  I ; The  Mysterious  Ra,  P.  85 ; Mentu,  P.  97 ; Epilogue, 
P.  141. 

Borrow,  George:  Wild  Wales.  The  ecclesiastical  cat  appears  in 

Chapter  VII  and  also  elsewhere  in  the  book. 

Boyle,  Frederick:  Taming  Animals;  Living  Age;  June  3,  1911;  Vol. 

269,  P.  599.  From  the  Cornhill  Magazine. 

Broderip,  W.  J. : Zoological  Recreations;  Henry  Colburn;  London; 

1849  (new  edition  with  alterations).  Cats,  Part  II,  P.  191. 
Bullen,  Frank  T. : Cats  on  Board  Ship;  The  Spectator;  April  8, 

1899;  Vol.  82,  P.  484. 

C.  T.  L. : Some  cats  I have  known:  a reminiscence;  Old  and  New; 

Boston;  April  1873;  Vol.  7,  P.  462. 

The  Cat;  Household  Words;  April  18,  1857;  Vol.  15,  P.  369.  This 
is  a review  of  Lady  Cust’s  book  with  some  additional  matter. 
The  Cat  — Ancient  and  Modern;  Chambers’s  Journal;  March  16, 
1878;  Vol.  55,  P.  171. 

Cats;  Chambers’s  Journal ; July  3,  1875  ; Vol.  52,  P.  430. 

Cats;  Chambers’s  Journal;  March  23,  1872;  Vol.  49,  P.  177. 

Cats:  with  some  account  of  the  Tooten  Toon;  Chambers’s  Journal; 
April  II,  1868;  Vol.  45,  P.  225.  This  is  a review  of  Ross’s 
book  with  a good  deal  of  additional  matter. 

Cat  Stories;  All  the  Year  Round;  June  7,  1862;  Vol.  7,  P.  308. 

The  Cat  About  Town;  The  Spectator;  Vol.  80,  P.  197. 

The  Cat  and  the  Bell-Collar;  Atlantic  Monthly;  August  1913;  Vol. 
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Cats  in  Catholic  Ritual;  The  Month;  London;  August  1896;  Vol.  87, 
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A Chapter  on  Cats;  Chambers’s  Journal;  January  10,  1852;  Vol.  17, 
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Clark,  Harriet  Woodward:  An  unappreciated  suburbanite;  Suburban 

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A Climbing  Cat;  The  Living  Age;  December  21,  1912;  Vol.  275, 
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Concerning  Cats;  Leisure  Hour;  1883;  Vol.  32,  Pages  48,  94,  161, 
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Conway,  W.  M. : The  Cats  of  Ancient  Egypt ; English  Illustrated 

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Coulson,  G.  J.  A.:  Cats;  New  Eclectic;  Baltimore;  August  1869; 

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Cursory  Cogitations  Concerning  Cats;  Blackwood’s;  November  1839; 
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Day,  Clarence,  jr. : The  Great  Cats  in  This  Simian  World;  Alfred 

A.  Knopf;  New  York;  1920.  Illustrated  by  the  author. 

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335 


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De  Forest,  J.  W. : Modern  Cats:  Atlantic  Monthly;  June  1874; 

Vol.  33,  P.  737. 

Docquois,  Georges:  Bctes  et  Gens  de  Lettres;  Flammarion;  Paris; 

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Douglas,  A.  Donald:  Of  Cats;  The  Forum;  March  1914;  Vol.  51, 

P.  415. 

Dumas,  Alexandre : My  Pets,  translated  by  Alfred  Allinson  from 

Mes  Betes;  with  sixteen  illustrations  by  V.  Lecomte;  the  Mac- 
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Durand,  James:  A Household  Pet;  Cosmopolitan;  January  1887;  Vol. 

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Employment  for  Cats;  The  Living  Age;  October  15,  1910;  Vol.  267, 
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Froude,  James  Anthony:  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects:  First 

Series;  Longmans  Green;  London;  1867  (second  edition).  The 
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Gautier,  Theophile:  Baudelaire  and  the  Cat;  in  Gautier’s  preface 

to  Fleurs  du  Mai,  Pages  33,  34,  35;  Calmann-Levy ; Paris. 

Goldsmith,  Gertrude:  The  Serpent  in  Eden;  Suburban  Life;  July 

1913:  Vol.  17,  P.  12.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Gosse,  Edmund:  Gossip  in  a Library.  Cats  is  an  essay  on  Augustin 

Paradis  de  Moncrif. 

Graves,  C.  L. : The  Diversions  of  a Music  Lover ; Macmillan  and 

Co.;  London;  1904;  A Musical  Celebrity,  P.  219. 

G.  Y. : “Mole”;  The  Spectator;  January  13,  1912;  Vol.  108,  P.  51. 

Hamerton,  Philip  Gilbert:  Chapters  on  Animals;  Seeley,  Jackson  and 

Halliday;  London;  1874.  With  twenty  etchings  by  J.  Veyrassat 
and  Karl  Bodmer.  Chapter  IV,  P.  43,  is  devoted  to  cats. 

Havet,  Mireille:  La  maison  dans  I’oeil  du  chat;  Georges  Cres  et  cie; 
Paris;  1917.  Avertissement  de  Colette  Willy.  Dessins  de 
Jeanne  de  Lanux.  Two  pieces  in  this  book  concern  cats,  the 
title  paper,  P.  65,  and  Le  chat,  P.  15 1. 

Hearn,  Lafcadio:  Kotto:  being  Japanese  curios  with  sundry  cob- 

webs; Macmillan  and  Co.;  New  York;  1902.  Illustrations  by 
Genjiro  Yeto.  Pathological,  P.  217,  is  a cat  paper. 


336 


Bibliography 

Herendeen,  Anne:  The  Case  of  Mouser  vs.  Bowser;  Everybody’s 

Magazine;  July  1919;  Vol.  41,  P.  41.  Illustrations  by  Oliver 
Herford. 

The  History  of  Cats;  Saturday  Review;  May  6,  1882;  Vol.  53,  P.  558. 
Hopkins,  Tighe:  Cats;  Leisure  Hour;  1895;  V^ol.  44,  P.  107.  Illus- 

trations by  Louis  Wain  and  A.  Seiger. 

Howe,  Arthur  L. : Abolishing  the  stray  cat  nuisance;  Suburban  Life; 

January  1911;  Vol.  12,  P.  20.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 
Howells,  W.  D. : Literature  and  Life;  Harper  and  Brothers;  New 

York;  1902.  Jim,  in  Staccato  Notes  of  a Vanished  Summer, 
P.  261. 

Hunt,  Leigh:  The  Cat  by  the  Fire;  first  published  in  The  Seer,  this 

essay  is  to  be  found  in  the  volume  of  selected  papers  in  Walter 
Scott’s  Camelot  series. 

In  Praise  of  Cats;  Living  Age;  January  9,  1909;  Vol.  260,  P.  124. 
From  The  Nation. 

Jerome,  Jerome  K. : Idle  Thoughts  of  an  Idle  Fellow;  Field  and  Tuer ; 

London.  On  Cats  and  Dogs,  P.  77. 

Jerome,  Jerome  K. : Novel  Notes;  Simpkin,  Marshall,  Hamilton  Kent; 

and  Co.;  London;  1893.  Chapter  VI  (illustrated  by  Louis 
Wain)  is  devoted  to  cats. 

Kidd,  W. : Love  me,  love  my  cat;  Leisure  Hour;  November  28,  1861 ; 

Vol.  10,  P.  75. 

L.  J.  S.:  Cats  and  Poets;  Lippincott’s ; February  1885;  Vol.  35,  P. 
177. 

Lang,  Andrew:  At  the  Sign  of  the  Ship;  Longman’s  Magazine;  Vol. 

2,  P.  463;  February  1888  (Puss  in  Boots)  ; P.  571;  March  1888 
(Arsinoe’s  Cats);  Vol.  25,  P.  215;  December  1894;  320; 

January  1895  (cats  and  dogs)  ; Vol.  31,  P.  92;  November  1897; 
P.  465;  March  1898;  P.  558;  April  1898  ( ailuro phobia ) ; Vol. 
34,  P.  280;  July  1899;  P.  380;  August  1899  (with  Walter  Pol- 
lock’s poem,  Le  chat  devant  la  guerre)  ; Vol.  35,  P.  93;  Novem- 
ber 1899;  Vol.  44,  P.  85;  May  1904;  Vol.  45,  P.  382;  February 
1905.  So  far  as  I know  these  extremely  interesting  notes  by  An- 
drew Lang  have  not  been  collected  in  book  form. 

Larrabee,  W.  H.:  Cats  and  their  Friendships;  Popular  Science 

Monthly;  New  York;  May  1890;  Vol.  37,  P.  91.  Illustrated 
with  drawings. 


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Larrabee,  W.  H.:  The  Intelligence  of  Cats;  Popular  Science 

Monthly;  January  1891;  Vol.  38,  P.  368. 

Lautard,  Henri:  Chiens  et  Chats:  la  sympathie  envers  les  animaux; 

Le  Correspondent;  Paris;  1906;  Vol.  219  (N.  S.  Vol.  183),  P. 
999- 

The  License  of  the  Cat;  Living  Age;  May  3,  1913;  Vol.  277,  P.  309. 
From  The  Spectator. 

Lord,  J.  K. : Cats;  Leisure  Hour;  July  27,  1867;  Vol.  16,  P.  474. 

Loti,  Pierre:  Reflets  sur  la  Sombre  Route;  Calmann-Levy ; Paris. 
Chiens  et  Chats,  P.  49.  Translated  by  Fred  Rothwell  as  On 
Life’s  Byways,  this  book  was  issued  in  London  in  1914  by  G.  Bell 
and  Sons,  Ltd.  Dogs  and  Cats  is  on  P.  34. 

Lucas,  E.  V.:  Landmarks;  Macmillan  Co.;  New  York;  1914.  The 
Black  Cat,  Chap.  X,  P.  60. 

Lynd,  Robert:  The  Book  of  This  and  That;  Mills  and  Boon,  Ltd.; 

London;  1915.  On  Black  Cats,  P.  137. 

Marquis,  Don:  Prefaces;  D.  Appleton  and  Co.;  New  York;  1919. 

Preface  to  a Cat  Show  Catalogue,  P.  57. 

Maupassant,  Guy  de:  La  Petite  Roque;  Paul  Ollendorff;  Paris.  Sur 
les  chats,  P.  185. 

Mayo,  Isabella  Fyvie:  The  Calumniated  Cat;  Humane  Review;  Lon- 

don; April  1902;  P.  38. 

Miller,  Olive  Thorne  (Harriet  Mann  Miller)  : Upon  the  Tree  Tops; 

Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.;  Boston;  1897.  The  Idyl  of  an 
Empty  Lot,  Chap.  XI,  P.  192,  is  about  cats. 

Mitchell,  S.  Weir:  Cat  Fear;  Ladies’  Home  Journal;  March  1906. 

Moses,  Joseph  Winthrop:  Something  About  Cats;  New  Eclectic; 

Baltimore;  November  1870;  Vol.  7,  P.  604. 

My  Cats;  Once  a Week;  London;  August  22,  1863;  Vol.  9,  P.  245. 
Notes  on  Cats;  The  Spectator;  August  2,  1913;  Vol.  3,  P.  171. 

On  Black  Cats;  London  Magazine;  March  1822;  Vol.  5,  P.  285. 
Our  Family  Cats;  Leisure  Hour;  February  19,  1857;  Vol.  6,  P.  117. 
Outside  Pets;  Blackwood;  December  1903;  Vol.  174,  P.  766. 

Owlett,  F.  C. : The  Cat  in  Literature;  Bibliophile;  London;  October 
1908;  Vol.  2,  P.  82.  Illustrated  with  drawings. 

Panton,  J.  E. : Cats  and  Kittens,  or  in  defence  of  the  cat;  English 

Illustrated  Magazine;  March  1890;  Vol.  7,  P.  450.  Illustrated 
by  Louis  Wain. 


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Phoenix’s  Feline  Attachment;  The  Knickerbocker  Magazine;  July 
1857,  P.  87.  A meeting  of  cats  to  consult  concerning  John 
Phoenix’s  feline  attachment;  idem;  September  1857. 

Puss;  Chambers’s  Journal;  October  9,  1880;  Vol.  57,  P.  646. 

Pussy’s  bit  in  the  war;  Literary  Digest;  December  6,  1919;  Vol.  63. 
Pussy’s  Notable  Friends;  Chambers’s  Journal;  Edinburgh;  November 
14,  1891;  Vol.  68,  P.  734. 

A Question  of  Animal  Ethics;  The  Spectator;  October  7,  1911;  Vol. 
107,  P.  541. 

Repplier,  Agnes:  Americans  and  Others;  Houghton,  Mifflin  Co.; 

Boston;  1912.  The  Grocer’s  Cat,  P.  273. 

Repplier,  Agnes:  Essays  in  Idleness:  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.; 

Boston;  1893.  Agrippina,  P.  i. 

Repplier,  Agnes:  Essays  in  Miniature;  Houghton,  Mifflin  Co.;  1899; 

Old  World  Pets  P.  182. 

Repplier,  Agnes;  In  the  Dozy  Hours;  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.; 
Boston;  1894.  A.  Kitten,  P.  16.  This  is  a charming  account  of 
Agrippina’s  son,  Claudius  Nero. 

Reserve  and  the  Cat;  Scribner’s  Magazine;  March  1919. 

Riis,  Jacob  A.:  Slippers,  the  White  House  Cat;  Saint  Nicholas; 

January  1908;  Vol.  35,  P.  202.  With  an  illustration. 

Robinson,  Phil:  The  Poets’  Beasts;  Chatto  and  Windus;  London; 

1885.  Some  Poets’  Cats,  P.  337. 

Runciman,  John  F. : My  French  Cats;  Saturday  Review;  London; 

April  2,  1904;  Vol.  97,  P.  424. 

St.  Clair,  George:  The  Cat  and  the  Moon;  Gentleman’s  Magazine; 

London;  1901;  Vol.  290,  P.  251. 

Saint-Victor,  Paul  de:  Les  Chats;  L’Artiste;  Paris;  1870,  P.  368. 

Sanborn,  Kate:  My  Literary  Zoo;  D.  Appleton  and  Co.;  New  York; 

1896.  The  paper  on  cats  begins  on  P.  75. 

Sandy;  The  Spectator;  March  13,  1915;  Vol.  114,  P.  366. 

A Short  Paper  on  Cats;  Leisure  Hour;  February  12,  1857;  Vol.  6, 
P.  107. 

Southey,  Robert:  The  Doctor;  Longmans,  Green  and  Co.;  London; 

1865  (edition  in  one  volume).  Contains  Memoirs  of  Cats’  Eden 
and  Memoirs  of  the  Cats  of  Greta  Hall. 

Spaulding,  Thomas  Marshall:  The  Army  Cat;  Overland  Monthly; 

December  1919;  Vol.  74,  P.  437. 

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Spencer,  Herman:  Mark  Twain  and  the  Cat;  Harper’s  Weekly; 

February  9,  1907;  Vol.  51,  P.  194. 

Stables,  Gordon;  A Plea  for  Pussy;  Leisure  Hour;  1888;  Vol.  37, 

P.  813. 

Stories  of  Cats;  Chambers’s  Journal;  December  ii,  1886;  Vol.  63, 
P.  791. 

Stray  Thoughts  on  Stray  Cats;  Argosy;  London;  March  1894;  Vol. 
57.  P-  252. 

Strong,  Prof.  Herbert  A.:  The  Cat;  Chambers’s  Journal;  June  i, 
1916;  Ser.  7,  Vol.  6,  P.  356. 

Strong,  H.  A. : Some  notes  on  the  cat  and  the  rat  and  the  testimony 

of  language  as  to  their  early  history;  Academy;  London;  Janu- 
ary 28,  1893;  Vol.  43,  P.  81.  In  the  Academy  for  February  4, 
1893,  P.  le  P.  Renouf  has  a corrective  letter. 

Sylva,  Carmen:  My  Kittens;  Century;  August  1908;  Vol.  76,  P.  538. 

Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Toussenel,  Alphonse:  L’esprit  des  betes;  zoologie  passionelle;  mam- 

miferes  de  France;  E.  Dentu;  Paris;  1858  (third  edition).  Le 
Chat,  P.  226.  Translated  by  M.  Edgeworth  Lazarus  as  Pas- 
sional Zoology,  or  Spirit  of  the  Beasts  of  France. 

Trueblood,  Sarah  E. : Cats  by  the  Way;  J.  B.  Lippincott  Co.;  Phil- 

adelphia; 1904.  Illustrations  by  the  author. 

Uncle  Sam’s  feline  force  of  mail  guardians;  Literary  Digest;  April  12, 
1919;  P.  46. 

Van  Tricht,  Victor:  Nos  Familiers;  Paul  Godenne;  Namur;  1890 

(third  edition).  Vol.  i:  Les  familiers  de  la  maison;  chiens  et 

chats. 

Vere,  Scheie  de:  Pussy;  Harper’s  Monthly;  March  1870;  Vol.  40, 

P.  481.  The  illustrations  are  mostly  from  Champfleury’s  Les 
Chats. 

Warner,  Charles  Dudley:  My  Summer  in  a Garden;  Houghton, 

Mifflin,  and  Co.;  Boston.  Fields,  Osgood,  and  Co.  issued  this 
book  in  1870.  Mr.  Warner’s  Calvin  appears  in  it  several  times. 
When  Calvin  died  Mr.  Warner  wrote  a special  paper  about  him 
which  first  appeared,  I think,  in  the  Houghton,  Mifflin  edition  of 
1882,  and  has  since  been  included  in  all  subsequent  editions. 

Webb,  Charles  Henry:  Uncared-for  Cats;  Lippincott’s;  August  1894; 

Vol.  54,  P.  246. 


340 


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What  has  become  of  the  half-million  war  cats?;  Literary  Digest;  May 
lo,  1919. 

What  the  cat  thinks  of  the  dog;  Unpopular  Review;  July  1918;  Vol. 
10,  P.  205. 

Willy,  Colette:  La  Paix  Chez  les  Betes;  Georges  Cres  et  cie. ; Paris; 

1916.  Frontispiece  by  Steinlen.  Contains  the  following  cat  es- 
says: Poum,  P.  I ; Prrou,  P.  17  ; La  Shah,  P.  35  ; Le  Matou,  P.  45  ; 
Nonoche,  P.  93;  La  Mere  Chatte,  P.  105;  Le  Tentateur,  P.  113; 
Automne,  P.  127;  Le  Naturaliste  et  la  Chatte,  P.  135;  Ricotte, 
P.  153;  Conte  pour  les  Petits  Enfants  des  Poilus,  P.  221. 

Wilson,  Francis:  Lady  Jule;  Ladies’  Home  Journal;  November  1902. 

Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Wister,  S.  B.  (the  first  installment  is  signed  C.  B.)  : Cats  and  Their 

Affections;  Temple  Bar;  December  1895;  Vol.  106,  P.  557;  and 
January  1896;  Vol.  107,  P.  84. 

Wood,  Eugene:  Mah-ow!;  Delineator;  July  1917;  Vol.  91,  P.  12. 

Illustrations  by  H.  L.  Drucklieb.  This  paper  was  written  by  a 
canophilist  who  hates  cats. 

Wood,  Rev.  J.  G. : Bible  Animals:  Longmans,  Green,  Reader,  and 

Dyer;  London;  1869.  The  Cat,  P.  36. 

Wood,  Rev.  J.  G. : Glimpses  into  Petland  ; Bell  and  Daldy ; London ; 

1863.  Pages  1-84  about  the  cat,  Pret.  With  a frontispiece  by 
Walter  Crane. 

Wynter,  Andrew:  Fruit  Between  the  Leaves;  Chapman  and  Hall; 

London;  1875.  Two  volumes.  Eccentric  Cats,  Vol.  2,  P.  108. 

XIV 

THEATRE 

Bunner,  H.  C. : Three  Operettas;  Harper  and  Brothers;  New  York; 

1897.  The  Three  Little  Kittens  of  the  Land  of  Pie,  P.  3.  Music 
by  Oscar  Weil.  Illustrations  by  C.  D.  Weldon. 

Deshoulieres,  Mademoiselle  Antoinette  Therese:  La  Mort  de  Cochon 

(chien  de  M.  le  Marechal  de  Vivonne)  ; tragedie.  Collected 
Works  of  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  Deshoulieres,  and  Moncrif: 
Les  Chats,  P.  190. 

Fernald,  Chester  B.:  The  Cat  and  the  Cherub:  a play  in  one  act; 

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Bibliography 

Samuel  French;  Ltd.;  New  York  and  London;  1912.  Although 
some  of  the  same  characters  appear,  this  is  not  a dramatization  of 
the  story  which  bears  the  same  name.  The  play  was  produced 
at  the  Lyric  Theatre,  London,  October  30,  1897. 

Lopez,  John  S. : The  Theatre  Cat ; Harper’s  Weekly ; January  4, 

1908;  Vol.  52,  P.  22.  Illustrated  by  Henry  Raleigh. 

Maeterlinck,  Maurice:  L’Oiseau  Bleu;  feerie  en  six  actes  et  douze 

tableaux.  Performed  for  the  first  time  at  the  Art  Theatre  in 
Moscow,  September  30,  1908. 

Middleton,  Thomas:  The  Witch. 

Tieck,  Ludwig:  Der  Gestiefelte  Kater  — ein  Kindermarchen  in  drei 

Akten  (1797);  P.  161,  Vol.  5:  Collected  Works;  Berlin;  1828. 

An  abbreviated  translation.  Puss  in  Boots,  by  Lillie  Winter,  is  to 
be  found  in  The  German  Classics  (edited  by  Kuno  Francke)  ; 
German  Publication  Society;  New  York;  Vol.  4,  P.  194. 
Todhunter,  John:  The  Black  Cat;  Henry  and  Co.;  London;  1895. 

A play  in  three  acts,  performed  by  the  Independent  Theatre  (J.  T. 
Grein,  director)  December  8,  1893,  at  the  Opera  Comique,  Lon- 
don. 

Walter,  Eugene:  The  Assassin;  produced  at  the  Collingwood  Opera 

House,  Poughkeepsie,  New  York,  on  the  afternoon  of  May  30, 
1917.  Not  published. 

Willy,  Colette:  Sept  Dialogues  de  Betes;  Mercure  de  France;  Paris; 

1905  (fifth  edition).  There  is  a preface  by  Francis  Jammes  and 
a portrait  of  the  author  after  a painting  by  Jacques  Blanche. 
Translated  by  Maire  Kelly  as  Barks  and  Purrs,  with  many  illus- 
trations, the  English  version  was  published  by  Desmond  Fitzger- 
ald; New  York;  1913. 


XV 

MUSIC 

Berthold,  G. : Duet  for  Two  Cats,  with  pianoforte  accompaniment; 

Augener  and  Co. ; London. 

Dobson,  Tom:  The  Cat  (words  by  James  Stephens)  ; in  The  Rocky 

Road  to  Dublin;  Oliver  Ditson  Co.;  Boston;  1919. 

German,  Edward:  The  First  Friend  (words  by  Rudyard  Kipling); 

342 


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in  Just  So  Song  Book;  Doubleday,  Page,  and  Co.;  New  York; 
1919. 

Kaufman,  Mel  B.:  Me-ow:  one-step;  Sam  Fox  Publishing  Co.; 

Cleveland;  1918. 

My  Musical  Critic;  Atlantic  Monthly;  January  1894;  Vol.  73,  P. 
139- 

Scarlatti,  Domenico:  The  Cat’s  Fugue. 

Stravinsky,  Igor:  Berceuses  du  Chat;  four  songs  for  a woman’s  voice 

and  three  clarinets;  arranged  for  piano  by  the  composer.  Popular 
Russian  songs  put  into  French  by  C.  F.  Ramuz;  Edition  Ad. 
Henn;  Geneva;  1917.  I,  Sur  le  poele;  II,  Interieur;  III,  Dodo; 
IV,  “ Ce  qu’il  a,  le  chat.” 

Tschaikovsky,  P. : La  Belle  au  Bois  Dormant;  ballet;  Opus  66;  P. 

Jurgenson ; Moscow.  No.  23  is  a Pas  de  Caractere  between  Puss 
in  Boots  and  the  White  Cat.  This  is  on  P.  168  of  the  piano 
score. 


XVI 

ART 

Bate,  Francis:  Mr.  Arthur  Tomson’s  pictures  and  studies  of  cats  at 

the  Dutch  Gallery;  The  Studio;  London;  November  15,  1893; 
Vol.  2,  P.  65.  Illustrated  with  drawings  by  Arthur  Tomson. 

Boston,  Frederick  J.  and  Elizabeth  S.  Tuc’ter:  Cats  and  Kittens;  with 

numerous  full-page  colour-plates  after  paintings  in  water  colours 
hy  F.  J.  Boston,  and  with  decorative  borders  and  other  designs, 
together  with  new  stories  and  verses  by  E.  S.  Tucker;  Frederick 
A.  Stokes  Co.;  New  York;  1895.  Juvenile. 

The  Cat  Painter  (Gottfried  Mind)  ; The  Penny  Magazine;  London; 
March  i,  1834;  Vol.  3,  P.  86. 

Cherville  G.  de:  Les  Chiens  et  les  Chats  d’Eugene  Lambert;  Librairie 

de  I’Art;  Paris;  1888.  Illustrated  with  six  etchings  of  cats  and 
one  hundred  and  forty-five  drawings  of  cats  and  dogs. 

Claudy,  C.  H.:  Cats  and  Cameras;  Photographic  Times-Bulletin ; 

New  York;  1904;  Vol.  36,  P.  145.  Illustrated  with  photographs 
by  the  author. 

Englemann,  Richard:  Die  Katzen  im  Altertum;  Jahrbuch  des  Kaiser- 

343 


Bibliography 

lich  Deutschen  Archaeologischen  Instituts;  Berlin;  1900;  Vol.  14, 
P.  136.  With  illustrations. 

Evans,  E.  P. : Animal  Symbolism  in  Ecclesiastical  Architecture ; 

Henry  Holt  and  Co.;  New  York;  1896.  With  seventy-eight  il- 
lustrations. 

Grandville  ( Jean-Ignace-Isadore  Gerard)  : Album  des  Betes,  a I’usage 

des  gens  d’esprit;  J.  Hetzel;  Paris.  There  are  many  plates  of 
cats  but  they  are  all  from  Les  Metamorphoses  du  Jour  and  the 
Vie  Privee  et  Publique  des  Animaux.  Louis  Moens  in  Brussels 
issued  an  edition  of  this  book  in  1864. 

Grandville:  Cent  Proverbes;  H.  Fournier;  Paris;  1845. 

Grandville:  Les  Metamorphoses  du  Jour;  Gustav  Havard;  Paris; 

1854.  The  plates  are  coloured  and  there  are  many  of  cats. 

Grandville:  Physionomie  du  Chat;  Magasin  Pittoresque;  Paris;  1840; 

P.  II.  With  thirteen  engravings  from  drawings  by  Grandville. 

Grandville:  Vie  Privee  et  Publique  des  Animaux;  J.  Hetzel;  Paris; 

1842. 

Hall,  Eugene  J. : Peter  and  Polly ; Country  Life  in  America ; Janu- 

ary I,  1911  ; Vol.  19,  P.  212.  A series  of  photographs  by  Cornelia 
Clarke. 

Hamerton,  Philip  Gilbert:  Chapters  on  Animals;  Seeley,  Jackson  and 

Halliday;  London;  1874.  Chapter  XV,  P.  221:  Animals  in 

Art. 

Havard,  Henry:  Henriette  Ronner,  un  peintre  de  chats;  E.  Flam- 

marion ; Paris;  1891.  Illustrated  with  photogravures  of  the  art- 
ist’s paintings  and  reproductions  of  drawings  in  the  text. 

Howe,  William  Norton:  Animal  Life  in  Italian  Painting;  George 

Allen;  London;  1912.  Illustrated. 

Humphreys,  Mabel:  The  Book  of  the  Cat;  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Co.; 

New  York;  1903.  With  facsimiles  of  drawings  in  colour  by 
Elisabeth  F.  Bonsall.  Large  folio  with  binding  of  grey  flannel 
stamped  with  kitten  heads. 

Janvier,  Catherine  A.  (Mrs.  Thomas  A.):  London  Mews;  Harper 

and  Brothers;  New  York;  1904.  Folio.  Illustrations  in  colour 
and  text  by  Mrs.  Janvier.  Dedicated  “‘To  T.  A.  J.,  lover  of 
cats.” 

Janvier,  Thomas  A.:  The  Cats  of  Henriette  Ronner;  Century  Maga- 

344 


Bibliography 

zine;  October  1893;  Vol.  46,  P.  852.  With  illustrations  from 
paintings  by  Madame  Ronner. 

Keller,  Otto:  Zur  Geschichte  der  Katze  im  Altertum;  Mitteilungen 

des  Kaiserlich  Deutschen  Archaeologischen  Instituts;  Rom;  1908; 
Vol.  23,  P.  40.  With  twelve  illustrations. 

Pollock,  Walter  Herries;  Pictures  of  Cats;  Magazine  of  Art;  Vol. 

7,  P.  89.  Illustrated  with  drawings  by  Mind  and  others. 
Ranch,  Edwin  Carty:  A Famous  Photographer  of  Cats  (Charles  E. 

Bullard);  American  Magazine;  April  1915;  Vol.  79,  P.  56. 
Illustrated  with  photographs. 

Renouard:  Croquis  d’Animaux;  Gillot;  Paris.  This  is  a folio  book 

of  drawings ; there  are  several  pages  of  interesting  cats. 

Ronner,  Henriette:  Cats  and  Kittens;  Cassell  and  Co.;  London;  1894. 

Descriptive  text  by  M.  Vachon,  translated  by  Clara  Bell.  The 
twelve  plates  and  the  sketches  in  the  text  are  entirely  different 
from  those  in  the  Spielmann  volume. 

Spielmann,  M.  H.:  Henriette  Ronner,  the  painter  of  cat  life  and  cat 
character;  Cassell  and  Co.;  London,  1891.  Illustrated  with 
twelve  Goupil  photogravures  from  her  paintings,  a portrait,  and 
reproductions  of  her  sketches  in  the  text.  Folio.  A popular 
edition  was  issued  in  1892. 

Sprigg,  Stanhope:  Louis  Wain’s  Method  of  Work;  Cassell’s  Maga- 

zine; London;  November  1898;  Vol.  26,  P.  563.  Illustrated  with 
drawings  by  Wain  and  his  photograph. 

Steinlen,  Theophile  Alexandre:  Des  Chats;  images  sans  paroles; 

Ernest  Flammarion;  Paris;  1898.  Large  folio.  Twenty-six 
plates  of  drawings,  all  of  cats,  except  one  which  is  of  white  mice; 
the  covers  bear  a fine  lithographic  version  of  the  famous  poster, 
Lait  pur  sterilise. 

Thompson,  Ernest  Seton:  Studies  in  the  Art  Anatomy  of  Animals; 

Macmillan  and  Co.;  London;  1896.  Illustrated  with  many  plates 
by  the  author. 

Tomson,  Arthur:  An  Artist  on  the  Cat  in  Art;  Century  Magazine; 

New  York;  1910;  Vol.  80,  P.  370.  Illustrations  from  drawings 
by  the  author. 

Wain,  Louis  William:  Louis  Wain’s  Annual,  1901,  and  several  years 

following;  George  Allen  and  Sons;  London.  Illustrated  by  Wain 

345 


Bibliography 

with  many  fantastic  and  comic  pictures  of  cats,  several  full  pages, 
many  in  colour.  Paper  covers  with  lithographs  of  cats. 

Winans,  Walter;  Animal  Sculpture;  G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons;  New 
York;  1913.  Illustrated  with  photographs. 

XVII 

ANTHOLOGIES 

Cat  Stories,  retold  from  St.  Nicholas  (edited  by  M.  H.  Carter)  ; Cen- 
tury Co.;  New  York;  1904.  On  P.  4 is  a letter  from  Mark 
Twain,  reprinted  from  St.  Nicholas,  where  it  was  addressed  to 
Edwin  Wildman.  Illustrated  with  drawings  and  photographs. 

Pender,  Mrs.  Frederick  W. : Cats  and  Kittens,  compiled  and  ar- 

ranged, and  original  poems  by  Mrs.  F.  W.  P. ; Edgar  S.  Werner 
and  Co.;  New  York;  1906.  This  is  No.  35  of  Werner’s  Read- 
ings and  Recitations.  Illustrated  with  drawings  and  photographs. 

Repplier,  Agnes:  The  Cat:  being  a record  of  the  endearments  and 

invectives  lavished  by  many  writers  upon  an  animal  much  loved 
and  much  abhorred ; collected,  translated,  and  arranged  by  Agnes 
Repplier;  Sturgis  and  Walton;  New  York;  1912.  Illustrated  by 
Elisabeth  F.  Bonsall. 

Tomson,  Graham  R.  (Mrs.  Rosamund  Ball  Marriott  Watson)  : Con- 

cerning Cats:  a book  of  poems  by  many  authors;  T.  Fisher  Unwin; 
London;^  1892.  Illustrations  by  Arthur  Tomson  (W.  Ball). 
The  American  edition  was  issued  by  the  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Co. 
the  same  year. 

Van  Vechten,  Carl:  Lords  of  the  Housetops:  thirteen  cat  tales; 

Alfred  A.  Knopf;  New  York;  1921. 


XVHI 

POETRY 

As  many  of  the  following  poems  are  to  be  found  in  one  or  more  of 
the  cat  anthologies,  I have  given  these  references  for  convenience.  Cats 
and  Kittens,  of  course,  refers  to  Mrs.  Pender’s  Work;  The  Cat,  to 
Miss  ReppHer’s,  and  Concerning  Cats,  to  Mrs.  Tomson’s. 

346 


Bibliography 

Alnaharwany,  Ibn  Alalaf:  On  a cat  that  was  killed  as  she  was  at- 

tempting to  rob  a dove-cote;  translated  from  the  Arabic  and  ren- 
dered freely  by  “ Dr.  Carlyle”:  The  Cat,  P.  42. 

Arnold,  Matthew:  Poor  Matthias;  from  Later  Poems.  The  Atossa 

episode  from  this:  The  Cat,  P.  84;  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  182; 

Concerning  Cats,  P.  10;  The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  177. 

Auld  Bawthren’s  Song:  The  Cat,  P.  34;  Concerning  Cats,  P.  85; 
The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  169. 

Baillie,  Joanna:  The  Kitten:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  55;  The  Cat  (ab- 

breviated), P.  16. 

Bates,  Katherine  Lee:  Hudson’s  Cat:  in  Sigurd  Our  Golden  Collie, 

P.  322. 

Baudelaire,  Charles:  Fleurs  du  Mai;  edition  definitive;  Calmann- 

Levy;  Paris.  Le  Chat,  P.  135;  Le  Chat,  P.  161;  Les  Chats,  P. 
189.  These  are  all  published  in  French  in  Concerning  Cats; 
there  is  an  English  transktion  of  Les  Chats  on  P.  67  of  The  Cat; 
English  translations  of  Le  Chat  (2)  and  Les  Chats,  Pages  16,  17 
of  Mrs.  W.  Chance’s  A Book  of  Cats;  English  translation  of 
Le  Chat  (i).  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  115. 

Baylor,  Adelaide  S. : Adventures  of  Miss  Tabby  Gray;  W.  A.  Wilde 

Co.;  Boston;  1913.  Illustrated  by  Josephine  Druce.  Juvenile. 
Benserade,  Isaac  de:  Labyrinthe  de  Versailles;  Amsterdam;  1682  (?). 

Published  in  four  languages,  French,  English,  German,  and  Dutch. 
The  original  edition  in  French  appeared  in  Paris  in  1677.  Fables, 
with  curious  engravings  of  the  fountains.  The  cat  pieces  are: 
Le  chat  pendu  et  les  rats,  Le  conseil  des  rats,  Le  singe  et  le  chat. 
La  souris,  le  chat,  et  le  petit  coq. 

Benserade,  Isaac  de:  Sonnet  (on  the  emasculation  of  a cat  belonging 

to  Madame  Deshoulieres)  : Moncrif:  Les  Chats,  P.  74. 

Benson,  A.  C. : The  Cat.  In  The  Cat,  P.  3 and  The  Fireside 
Sphinx,  P.  284. 

Beranger,  Pierre  Jean  de:  La  chatte.  See  Works  of  Beranger. 

Boulmier,  Joseph:  A Ma  Chatte  Coquette:  Concerning  Cats,  P. 

133- 

Boulmier,  Joseph:  A Mon  Chat  Gaspard:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  134. 

Boyle,  Virginia  Frazer:  I kilt  er  cat;  Love  Songs  and  Bugle  Calls; 

A.  S.  Barnes  and  Co.;  New  York;  1906;  P.  222.  Concerning 
Cats,  P.  89. 


347 


Bibliography 

Brown,  C.  Helton:  Peter  (a  kitten  buried  at  sea)  ; The  Spectator; 

June  21,  1913 ; Vol.  no,  P.  1058. 

Brown,  Hattie:  Catoninetales:  a domestic  epic,  comprising  a very 

true  and  dismal  pathetic  narration  of  the  ends  of  a most  worthy 
cat  Kok  Robyn  beginning  with  his  first  death  and  burial  and  the 
inquest  thereupon;  Lawrence  and  Bullen;  London;  1891.  330 

numbered  copies.  Edited  and  illustrated  by  W.  J.  Linton.  Ac- 
cording to  the  editor,  Hattie  Brown  was  “ a young  lady  of  colour 
lately  deceased  at  the  age  of  fourteen.” 

Burgess,  Gelett  and  Burges  Johnson:  The  Cat’s  Elegy;  A.  C.  Mc- 

Clurg  and  Co.;  Chicago;  1913.  Illustrated. 

C.  B.:  The  Terrific  Legend  of  the  Kilkenny  Cats.  In  Helen  M. 

Winslow’s  Concerning  Cats,  P.  168.  An  abbreviated  version  in 
Concerning  Cats,  P.  lOi. 

Calverley,  C.  S. : Sad  Memories:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  67;  The  Cat, 

P.  127. 

The  Cameronian  Cat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  99. 

Carlton,  Will  M.:  Baron  Grimalkin’s  Death:  Cats  and  Kittens, 

P.  126. 

Carryl,  Guy  Wetmore:  How  a Cat  was  annoyed  and  a Poet  was 

booted;  Grimm  Tales  Made  Gay;  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.; 
Boston;  1902.  Illustrations  by  Albert  Levering. 

A cat  may  look  upon  a king;  an  epistolary  poem  on  the  loss  of  the  ears 
of  a favourite  female  cat.  By  J.  A.  Belcher,  esq.  in  his  ms.,  ‘‘To 
. . .”:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  53. 

A Cat’s  Conscience:  The  Cat,  P.  55. 

Cat  Tails;  D.  Lothrop  Co.;  Boston;  1887.  Illustrated  with  many 
drawings.  Juvenile. 

The  Cattie  Sits  in  the  Kiln-Ring  Spinning:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  107; 

The  Cat,  P.  170. 

Les  Chats:  idile;  from  the  Arabian  ( ?)  : Moncrif:  Les  Chats,  P. 

1 14. 

Concerning  a Certain  Tom  Cat,  the  companion  and  friend  of  one 
Widow  Tomkins,  but  whom  she  left  locked  up  in  her  room  without 
either  milk  or  mice:  Ross:  The  Book  of  Cats,  P.  185  ; Concern- 

ing Cats,  P.  96  (abbreviated). 

Coolidge,  Susan:  Hodge,  the  Cat:  The  Cat,  P.  81;  Cats  and  Kit- 

tens, P.  1 1 7. 


348 


Bibliography 

Coppee,  Francois:  Sonnet  to  Henriette  Ronner:  Paul  Megnin’s 

Notre  Ami  le  Chat,  P,  VIII. 

Corrothers,  J.  D. : De  Black  Cat  Crossed  His  Luck:  The  Black 

Cat  Club,  P.  37;  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  124. 

Cowper,  William : The  Colubriad : Concerning  Cats,  P.  28 ; The 

Cat,  P.  154. 

Cowper,  William:  The  Retired  Cat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  30;  The 

Cat,  P.  144;  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  236. 

Davies,  W.  H.:  The  Cat:  Living  Age;  August  30,  1919;  Vol.  302, 

P.  571.  From  the  Westminster  Gazette. 

Delarue-Mardrus,  Lucie:  Pour  le  Chat;  Willy  et  Colette  Willy: 

Claudine  s’en  va,  P.  47. 

Delarue-Mardrus,  Lucie:  A la  Deesse  Maut,  a Tete  de  Chat:  Souffles 

de  Tempete;  Bibliotheque-Charpentier ; Paris;  1918;  P.  74. 

Deshoulieres,  Madame  et  Mademoiselle:  Oeuvres;  two  volumes; 

Stereotype  d’Herman;  Paris;  1803.  The  cat  poems  are  all  by 
Madame:  Lettre  en  chansons  a M.  Deshoulieres;  1677;  P.  55. 

Moncrif  quotes  part  of  this,  Les  Chats,  P.  97  and  Gosse  translates 
a stanza  in  his  essay  in  Gossip  in  a Library;  Concerning  Cats 
(Gosse’s  translation),  P.  45.  Epitre  de  Tata,  chat  de  Madame 
la  Marquise  Montglas,  a Grisette,  chatte  de  Madame  Deshoulieres; 
October  1678;  P.  55;  Moncrif,  P.  169.  Reponse  de  Grisette  a 
Tata,  P.  56;  Moncrif,  P.  171.  Blondin,  chat  des  Jacobins  de 
la  rue  Saint-Honore,  a sa  voisine  Grisette,  sur  les  rimes  de  la  piece 
precedente,  P.  58.  Dom.  Gris,  chat  de  Madame  la  Duchesse  de 
Bethune,  a Grisette,  P.  59.  Mittin,  chat  de  Mademoiselle 
Bocquet,  a Grisette,  P.  61.  Regnault,  chat  de  A.  . . .,  a Grisette, 
P.  65.  Reponse  de  Tata  a Grisette,  P.  65;  Moncrif,  P.  173. 
Reponse  de  Grisette  a Tata,  P.  67;  Moncrif,  P.  176.  Grisette, 
a M.  le  Marechal  Due  de  Vivonne,  qui  faisoit  semblant  de  croire 
que  Madame  Deshoulieres  avoit  fait  un  mauvais  rondeau  qui 
couroit  le  monde,  P.  69.  Epitre  de  Cochon,  chien  de  M.  le 
Marechal  de  Vivonne,  a Grisette,  P.  72.  Response  de  Grisette 
Cochon,  P.  73.  Reponse  de  Cochon  a Grisette,  P.  75. 
Reponse  de  Grisette  a Cochon,  P.  77;  Moncrif,  P.  179.  Reponse 
de  Cochon  a Grisette,  P.  80.  Reponse  de  Grisette  a Cochon,  P. 
83;  Moncrif,  P.  184.  Rondeau  a M.  le  Due  de  Vivonne,  sur  ce 
qu’il  soutenoit,  en  plaisantant,  qu’elle  etoit  auteur  du  mauvais 

349 


Bibliography 

rondeau  dont  il  a ete  parle  dans  I’epltre  de  Grisette;  1678;  P.  84. 
Docquois,  Georges:  Rondels  pour  les  chats  de  Franqois  Coppee:  I. 

Bourget;  II.  Petit-Loulou ; III.  Mistigris.  In  Betes  et  Gens  de 
Lettres,  P.  70. 

Du  Bellay,  Joachim:  Epitaphe  d’un  Chat:  Moncrif:  Les  Chats,  P. 

156. 

Epitaph:  Ci  repose  pauvre  Mouton:  Ross:  The  Book  of  Cats, 

P.  55. 

Epitaph : Imitated  in  English  from  the  Latin  of  Dr.  Jortin : Con- 

cerning Cats,  P.  47. 

Epitaph  for  the  cat  of  Madame  de  Lesdiguieres : Moncrif,  P,  104; 

The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  74. 

Feydeau,  Georges:  Le  Petit  Menage:  Megnin’s  Notre  Ami  le  Chat, 

P.  259;  illustrated  by  the  actor,  Saint-Germain. 

Florian,  Jean  Pierre  Clarisse:  Fables.  The  Cat  fables  are:  Le 
Chat  et  le  Miroir;  Le  Chien  et  le  Chat;  Le  Chat  et  la  Lunette; 
Les  Deux  Chats;  I’Hibou,  le  Chat,  I’Oison,  et  le  Rat;  Le  Chat  et 
les  Rats;  and  Le  Chat  et  le  Moineau.  There  is  an  edition  illus- 
trated by  Grandville. 

Gardiner,  Ruth  Kimball:  The  Cat:  The  Cat,  P.  ii. 

Garnett,  Richard:  Marigold:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  78;  The  Cat,  P. 

164;  The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  290. 

Garnett,  Richard:  To  a cat  which  had  killed  a favourite  bird  (after 

Agathias)  : Concerning  Cats,  P.  50;  The  Cat,  P.  41  ; The  Fire- 

side Sphinx,  P.  15. 

Gay,  John:  Fables.  The.  Fables  about  cats  are  The  Rat-catcher  and 

the  Cats;  Concerning  Cats,  P.  38,  and  The  Cat,  P.  132;  The  Old 
Woman  and  her  Cats;  and  The  Man,  The  Cat,  the  Dog,  and  the 
Fly. 

Gineste,  Raoul : Chattes  et  Chats,  avec  une  preface  par  Paul  Arene ; 

Marpon  et  Flammarion ; Paris;  1892.  All  the  poems  in  this  book 
are  about  cats. 

Gray,  Thomas:  On  the  death  of  a favourite  cat  drowned  in  a tub  of 

gold-fishes:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  25;  The  Cat,  P.  158;  Cats  and 
Kittens,  P.  232;  The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  135;  Ross:  The  Book 
of  Cats,  P.  260. 

Green,  Joseph:  A poet’s  lamentation  for  the  loss  of  his  cat:  Cats 

and  Kittens,  P.  261. 


350 


Bibliography 

Guyot-Desherbiers : a long  poem  on  cats,  parts  of  which  are  quoted  in 
Megnin’s  Notre  Ami  le  Chat,  Pages  66,  70,  73,  74,  and  iii,  and 
in  Landrin’s  Le  Chat,  P.  69,  89,  91,  93,  94,  lOi,  148,  149,  150. 
According  to  Landrin,  Guyot-Desherbiers  was  the  maternal  grand- 
father of  Alfred  de  Musset,  who  sent  the  poem  to  Jean  Gay,  who 
published  it  in  his  Les  Chats. 

Harte,  Bret:  Miss  Edith’s  Modest  Request:  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  138. 
Hay,  Elijah:  The  King  Sends  Three  Cats  to  Guenevere:  Others; 

December  1918. 

Heine,  Heinrich:  Poems,  translated  by  Edgar  Alfred  Bowring; 

George  Bell;  London;  1884.  P.  46,  Sonnet  No.  7,  (another 
translation  in  Concerning  Cats,  P.  74)  : Hiit  dich,  mein  Freund, 

vor  grimmen  Teufelsfratzen ; P.  117,  No.  6,  Clarissa;  P.  129, 
Songs  of  Creation;  P.  162,  No.  6,  The  Old  Chimneypiece  (two 
stanzas  of  this,  translated  by  Sir  Theodore  Martin,  P.  14,  The 
Cat)  ; P.  455,  Romancero,  Retrospect;  P.  506,  Red  Slippers:  Rote 
Pantoffeln:  Gar  bdse  Katze,  so  alt  und  grau;  P.  529,  Mimi: 

Bin  kein  sittsam  Biirgerkatzchen ; P.  533,  The  Young  Cats’  Club 
for  Poetry-Music:  Der  philharmonische  Katerverein.  Mrs. 

Browning  translated  two  stanzas  of  a poem  by  Heine  beginning, 
“ The  neighbour’s  old  cat  often  came  to  pay  us  a visit ; to  be  found 
in  Vol.  6,  P.  165  of  Mrs.  Browning’s  Complete  Works;  Thomas 
Y.  Crowell  and  Co. ; and  in  Kate  Sanborn’s  My  Literary  Zoo, 

P.  85. 

Herford,  Oliver:  The  Bashful  Earthquake;  Charles  Scribner’s  Sons; 

New  York;  1900;  contains  the  following  poems  on  cats:  The 

Music  of  the  Future,  P.  9;  Song,  P.  ii ; The  Tragic  Mice,  P.  38; 
Illustrations  by  the  author. 

Herford,  Oliver:  The  Kitten’s  Garden  of  Verses;  Charles  Scribner’s 

Sons;  New  York;  1911.  Illustrated  by  the  author. 

Herford,  Oliver:  The  Laughing  Willow;  George  H.  Doran; 
New  York;  1918.  The  Town  Cat,  P.  65,  and  The  Catfish, 
P.  108. 

Herford,  Oliver:  The  Rubaiyat  of  a Persian  Kitten ; Charles  Scribner’s 

Sons;  New  York;  1904.  Illustrations  by  the  author. 

Herford,  Oliver:  At  the  Photographers:  Cat  Stories  from  St.  Nich- 
olas, P.  20;  An  Open  Letter:  Cat  Stories,  P.  71  and  Cats  and 

Kittens  (called  A Mirror  Cat),  P.  30;  The  Audacious  Kitten: 

351 


Bibliography 

Cat  Stories,  P.  178  and  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  184.  Illustrations 
by  the  author. 

Hess,  Walter  Leon:  Feline  Philosophy  by  Thomas  Cat;  Richard  G. 

Badger;  Boston;  1919.  The  illustrations  are  mostly  from  Har- 
rison Weir’s  book. 

Hood,  Thomas:  Puss  and  Her  Three  Kittens:  Cats  and  Kittens, 

P.  87. 

Huddesford,  George:  Monody  on  the  Death  of  Dick,  an  Academical 

Cat;  Collected  Poems  in  two  volumes;  printed  for  J.  Wright; 
London;  1801;  Vol.  i,  P.  131. 

Hugues,  Clovis:  Les  Petits  Chats;  in  Percheron’s  Le  Chat,  P.  22. 

Idem  Carmen  Germanice  Redditum:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  79. 

Katzenleben,  Baroness  de  (pseudonym)  : The  Cat’s  Tail:  being  the 

history  of  Childe  Merlin;  William  Blackwood;  Edinburgh;  1831. 
With  two  etchings  and  copies  in  colour  by  George  Cruikshank. 
Keats,  John:  To  a Cat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  73. 

The  Kilkenny  Cats:  Helen  M.  Winslow’s  Concerning  Cats,  P.  169. 

King,  Ben:  That  Cat:  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  78. 

Kipling,  Rudyard:  The  First  Friend;  in  Just  So  Stories. 

La  Fontaine,  Jean  de:  Fables.  The  cat  fables  are  Le  Chat,  la  Belette, 
et  le  petit  Lapin ; Le  Chat,  le  Cochet,  et  le  Souriceau ; Le  Chat  et 
les  deux  Moineaux ; Le  Chat  et  le  vieux  Rat ; Le  Chat  et  le 
Renard ; Le  Chat  et  le  Singe;  Le  vieux  Chat  et  la  jeune  Souris 
(translated  in  The  Cat,-  P.  54)  ; La  querelle  des  Chats  et  des 
Chiens,  et  celle  des  Chats  et  des  Souris;  La  Chatte  metamorphosee 
en  Femme  (Concerning  Cats,  P.  126)  ; and  La  Chatte,  la  Laie,  et 
I’Aigle. 

Lamb,  Charles:  Prince  Dorus;  printed  for  M.  J.  Godwin;  London; 

1811.  Illustrated  with  coloured  engravings.  The  cat  Minon 
plays  a part  in  this  tale  in  rhyme  and  there  are  two  pictures  of 
him.  A facsimile  of  this  book  was  printed  in  1890. 

Lament  for  Tabby,  or  the  Cat’s  Coronach:  The  Cat,  P.  72;  Con- 

cerning Cats,  P.  48. 

La  Mothe  le  Vayer,  Francois  de:  Epitaphe  de  Marlemain  (favourite 

cat  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  du  Maine):  Moncrif,  P.  106; 

Gosse  (trans.)  Gossip  in  a Library,  P.  180;  Concerning  Cats, 
P.  46  (Gosse’s  translation)  ; The  Cat,  P.  71  (Gosse’s  translation)  ; 
The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  74  (Gosse’s  translation). 

352 


Bibliography 

Landor,  Walter  Savage:  Chinchillo  (addressed  to  his  child,  Carlino)  : 

Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  134. 

Lemaitre,  Jules:  Sonnet:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  135;  The  Fireside 

Sphinx,  P.  283.  The  last  six  lines  of  this  sonnet,  translated.  The 
Cat,  P.  37. 

Levesque,  Madame:  Minet  (1736)  : part  of  this  poem  is  published  on 

P.  173  of  Megnin’s  Notre  Ami  le  Chat. 

Lindsay,  Vachel:  The  Congo;  Macmillan  Co.;  New  York;  1914. 

The  cat  poems  are  The  Mysterious  Cat,  P.  38,  and  Dirge  for  a 
Righteous  Kitten,  P.  40. 

Locker,  Frederick:  Loulou  and  her  Cat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  80. 

Lowell,  Amy:  Pictures  of  the  Floating  World;  Macmillan  and  Co.; 

New  York;  igig.  To  Winky,  P.  193. 

Maine,  Duchesse  du:  Rondeau  Marotique:  Moncrif,  P.  96.  The 

envoy,  translated  by  Gosse,  P.  179,  Gossip  in  a Library;  The  Cat, 
P.  70;  and  Concerning  Cats,  P.  44. 

Menard,  M.:  Sonnet:  Moncrif,  P.  134. 

Monkhouse,  Cosmo:  The  Cat  and  the  Canary:  Concerning  Cats, 

P.  82. 

Moore,  Edward:  Fables;  T.  Heptinstall;  London;  1799.  The 
Farmer,  the  Spaniel,  and  the  Cat. 

Mother  Tabbyskins:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  no. 

La  Musique  des  Chats:  Champfleury:  Les  Chats,  P.  71;  Concern- 

ing Cats,  P.  123. 

Pikhson,  J.  Rheyn:  Tawny  Tom  and  Tabby  Gray:  The  Knicker- 

bocker Magazine;  June  1842;  P.  517. 

Pindar,  Peter  (John  Wolcot)  : An  Ode  to  Eight  Cats:  Works;  edi- 

tion of  Jones  and  Co. ; London ; P.  246. 

Pollock,  Sir  Frederick:  Tom  of  Corpus:  The  Cat,  P.  no;  The 

Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  288. 

Poor  Puss:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  119. 

Prior,  Matthew:  Lines  on  a reasonable  affliction:  Concerning  Cats, 

P.  43- 

Prior,  Matthew:  To  my  Lord  Buckhurst,  very  young,  playing  with  a 

cat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  41 ; The  Cat,  P.  36. 

Rives,  Amelie:  My  Cat:  McClure’s  Magazine ; May  1920.  Decora- 

tion by  Oliver  Herford. 

Ronsard,  Pierre  de:  Le  Chat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  124. 

353 


Bibliography 

Rossetti,  Christina:  On  the  death  of  a cat,  a friend  of  mine  age  ten 

years  and  a half;  New  Poems;  Macmillan  and  Co.;  London; 
1896.  P,  313. 

Ruffin,  Alfred:  Le  Livre  des  Chats;  Alphonse  Lemerre;  Paris;  1908.  • 
All  the  poems  in  this  book  are  about  cats. 

Saint  Gilles,  Chevalier  de:  Le  Renard  et  le  Chat:  Moncrif,  P.  168. 

Scarron,  Paul:  £pitre  a Madame  de  Montatere:  Moncrif,  P.  99. 

Scheffel,  Joseph  Victor  von:  Der  Trompeter  von  Sakkingen:  ein  Sang 

vom  Oberrhein.  Hiddigeigei,  the  Tom  Cat,  appears  in  the  poem, 
and  there  are  thirteen  Lieder  des  Katters  Hiddigeigei.  Trans- 
lated as  The  Trumpeter,  from  the  two  hundredth  German  edition 
by  Jessie  Beck  and  Louise  Lorimer,  with  an  introduction  by  Sir 
Theodore  Martin,  K.  C.  B.,  this  book  was  issued  by  William 
Blackwood  and  Sons;  Edinburgh  and  London;  1893. 

Schofield,  Lily:  Tom  Catapus  and  Potiphar,  a tale  of  ancient  Egypt; 

Frederick  Warne  and  Co.;  London.  Illustrated  with  many  draw- 
ings in  colour. 

Scollard,  Clinton:  Peter,  an  elegy:  The  Cat,  P,  119. 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe:  Verses  on  a Cat:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  71. 

Skelton,  John:  The  Boke  of  Phyllyp  Sparowe:  Vol.  i,  P.  51,  The 

Poetical  Works  of  John  Skelton,  with  notes  by  Rev.  Alexander 
Dyce;  two  volumes;  Thomas  Rodd;  London;  1843.  The  cat  epi- 
sode from  this  long  narrative  poem  may  be  found  in  The  Cat, 

P.  47. 

Sonnet  sur  la  chatte  de  Madame  de  Lesdiguieres:  Moncrif,  P.  89. 

Southey,  Robert:  Southey’s  Cats  write  their  master:  Cats  and  Kit- 

tens, P.  263. 

Stephens,  James:  The  Cat. 

Stevens,  D.  K. : The  Lyrics  of  Eliza;  Century  Co.;  New  York;  1911. 

Illustrated  by  Katherine  Maynadier  Browne.  Juvenile. 

Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles:  To  a Cat:  The  Cat,  P.  68.  A dif- 

ferent version  is  to  be  found  in  Gordon  Stables’s  story,  Shireen  and 
her  Friends. 

Taine,  Hippolyte:  Douze  sonnets  inedits  de  Taine;  Figaro;  Paris; 

Supplement  Litteraire;  March  ii,  1893.  I,  Le  Bonheur;  II,  La 
Societe;  III,  La  Religion;  IV,  Les  Souvenirs;  V,  Les  Penates;  VI, 

La  Philosophie;  VII,  L’Enseignement;  VIII,  La  Pratique;  IX, 
L’Enfance;  X,  La  Sensibilite;  XI,  Le  Point  de  Vue;  XII, 

354 


Bibliography 

L’Absolu.  Published  posthumously  without  the  consent  of  the 
author’s  heirs  and  executors.  They  carry  this  inscription:  A 

trois  chats,  Puss,  Ebene  et  Mitonne,  domicilies  a Menthon-Saint- 
Bernard,  Haute-Savoie,  ces  douze  sonnets  sont  dedies  par  leur  ami 
et  serviteur,  H.  Taine,  novembre,  1883.  Pratique,  in  French, 
The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  194;  translated,  in  The  Cat,  P.  33. 

Tennyson,  Alfred  Lord:  The  Spinster’s  Sweet-arts;  Works  of  Tenny- 

son; Macmillan  and  Co.;  London,  1893 ; Vol.  10,  P.  70. 

Tomson,  Graham  R. : Arsinoe’s  Cats  (imitation  in  the  manner  of 

the  latter  Greek  poets,  circa  A.  D.  500)  : Concerning  Cats,  P. 

51;  The  Cat,  P.  65;  The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  14. 

Tomson,  Graham  R. : Dedication:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  3. 

Tomson,  Graham  R. : To  my  cat:  le  chat  noir:  Concerning  Cats, 

P.  76;  The  Cat,  P.  61;  The  Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  281. 

Tregellas,  John  Tabois:  Grammer’s  Cat  and  Ours:  Concerning 

Cats,  P.  92; 

Tuberville,  George  (attributed  to)  : The  Lover,  whose  Mistresse 

feared  a Mouse,  declareth  that  he  would  become  a Cat  if  he  might 
have  his  desire:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  36;  The  Cat,  P.  8;  The 

Fireside  Sphinx,  P.  132. 

Verlaine,  Paul:  Femme  et  Chatte:  Concerning  Cats,  P.  132. 

Watson,  William:  A Study  in  Contrasts:  Collected  Poems;  John 

Lane  Co.;  London;  1899;  P.  188. 

Wells,  Carolyn:  A Serious  Question:  Cat  Stories  from  St.  Nicholas, 

P.  166.  Illustrated  by  Oliver  Herford. 

Wells,  Carolyn:  The  Timid  Kitten:  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  58. 

Wilcox,  Ella  Wheeler:  Two  Pussy-Cats:  The  Pet  Cat;  The  Tramp 

Cat:  Cats  and  Kittens,  P.  105. 

Wordsworth,  William:  The  Kitten  and  the  Falling  Leaves:  Con- 

cerning Cats,  P.  61;  The  Cat  (abbreviated),  P.  29;  Cats  and  Kit- 
tens (abbreviated),  P.  122. 


XIX 

MISCELLANEOUS 

Chapin,  Howard  Millar:  Murthy’s  Cattage:  a biographical  diction- 

ary of  cats  in  literature;  published  by  the  author;  Providence; 

355 


Bibliography 

Rhode  Island;  1911.  With  a portrait  from  a photograph  of 
“ Murthy.”  Pamphlet. 

Euwer,  Anthony  Henderson:  Christopher  Cricket  on  Cats:  with  ob- 

servations and  deductions  for  the  enlightment  of  the  human 
race  from  infancy  to  maturity  and  even  old  age;  introduction 
by  Wallace  Irwin;  The  Little  Book  Concern;  New  York;  1909. 
Illustrations  by  the  author. 

Hoffmann,  E.  T.  A:  Lebensansichten  des  Katers  Murr:  See  col- 

lected works  of  Hoffmann. 

Holbrook,  Richard  Thayer:  Dante  and  the  Animal  Kingdom;  Co- 

lumbia University  Press;  New  York;  1902. 

Mangin,  Arthur:  L’Homme  et  la  BHe;  Firmin  Didot  freres,  fils  et 

cie. ; Paris;  1872. 

Pictet,  Adolphe:  Les  origines  Indo-Europeennes  ou  les  Ar}^as  primitifs, 

essai  de  paleontologie  linguistique ; Joel  Cherbuliez;  Paris;  1859. 
Two  Volumes.  The  cat,  Vol.  i,  P.  381. 

XX 

UNCLASSIFIED 

The  following  books  I have  not  seen,  but  as  I have  found  references 
to  them,  I include  them  for  the  sake  of  the  record. 

A.  W.  B.:  It  was  ever  so  long  ago;  the  adventures  of  a cat-child; 

Headley  Brothers;  London;  1911.  Ten  plates  in  colour  and 
small  drawings  in  the  text  by  Hugh  Wallis. 

Adeline,  Jules:  Le  chat  d’apres  les  Japonais;  Rouen;  1893. 

Bennett,  Charles:  Nine  Lives  of  a Cat. 

Brentano:  Die  mehreren  Wehmiiller. 

Dame  Wiggins  of  Lee,  and  her  seven  wonderful  cats.  A humorous 
tale.  Written  principally  by  a lady  of  ninety;  Newman  and  Co.; 
London;  1823.  With  eighteen  coloured  woodcuts.  In  1885  the 
book  was  reissued  by  G.  Allen  of  Orpington,  for  which  John 
Ruskin  added  four  stanzas,  and  Kate  Greenaway  made  drawings. 
Dick  Whittington;  the  cat  manual;  London;  1902. 

An  Essaie  on  the  Householde  Cat;  1714- 
Francois,  Luise  von:  Katzenjunker. 

356 


Bibliography 

Gardner,  J.  G. : The  Cat,  with  hints  for  feeding,  breeding,  etc. ; St. 

Mary  Cray;  1892. 

Gay,  Jean:  Les  Chats;  Gay;  Paris  and  Brussels;  1866.  (extraits  de 

pieces  rares  et  curieuses  en  vers  et  en  prose  . . . le  tout  concern- 
ant  la  gent  feline) 

Howitt,  Mary:  Household  Pets:  Cats  and  Parrots;  Cassell,  Petter, 

and  Galpin;  London;  1863.  With  three  full-page  woodcuts  of 
cats  engraved  by  Quartley  after  W.  H.  Freeman. 

Hunt,  Violet:  The  Cat;  A.  and  C.  Black;  London;  1905.  With 

twelve  colour  plates  after  paintings' by  Adolph  Birkenruth. 

Leopold,  Svend:  Goethe’s  Katze. 

Maurogiannes:  Chiens  de  Constantinople  et  chiens  et  chats  de  bonne 

maison;  Paris;  1901. 

Megede,  J.  R.  zur:  Ueberkater;  1904. 

Minnett,  Cora  and  Pellew  Hawker:  Lucky;  F.  V.  White  and  Co.; 

London;  1911.  Illustrated  with  eleven  full-page  drawings  by 
A.  MacNeill-Barbour. 

Mitton,  G.  E. : Animal  Autobiographies. 

Pollock,  W.  Herries:  Animals  that  have  owned  us;  John  Murray; 

London;  1904.  Pages  66-136  devoted  to  cats. 

Raton : Sur  I’education  du  chat  domestique ; son  histoire  philosophique 

et  politique;  traitement  de  ses  maladies. 

Straus-Durckheim:  Anatomie  descriptive  et  comparative  du  chat; 

1845- 

Tales  from  Catland.  Illustrated  by  Harrison  Weir. 

Valle,  I. : Epitaphs  of  Some  Dear  Dumb  Animals;  R.  C.  Badger, 

Boston;  1916. 


357 


' ' '-i' ..  -■‘'.'t'’ 


V. 


•*>,V 


...M; 


Ml*  , • 


Index 


Abdullah,  Achmed,  234 
Achard,  Emile,  50,  333 
Adams,  Morley,  137 
Addison,  Joseph,  62,  209,  333 
Aesop,  255,  325 

Ailurophobia,  30,  61  et  seqq.,  182,  280, 
333.  337,  338  _ 

Alden,  William  Livingston,  326 

Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey,  326 

Alnaharwany,  Ibn  Ilalaf,  347 

Anisfeld,  Boris,  218 

Apocrypha,  84 

Apthorp,  W.  F.,  198 

Arabian  legend,  84 

Ariel,  Carl  Van  Vechten’s  cat,  5,  6,  35 

Arnold,  Matthew,  24,  257,  282,  347 

Arnould,  Sophie,  206 

d’Aurevilly,  Barbey,  290 

Babington,  Percy  L.,  309 
Bacon,  Peggy,  62,  326 
Baillie,  Joanna,  255,  347 
Balestieri,  Domenico,  248,  273 
Balzac,  Honore  de,  224,  225,  231,  238 
et  seq.,  326,  332 
Banchieri,  Adriano,  198 
Barrocio,  215,  216 
Barton,  Frank  Townend,  311 
Bassano,  215 

Baudelaire,  Charles,  17,  81,  205,  247, 
256,  258,  261,  265  et  seqq.,  276, 
277,  289,  293,  298,  336,  347 
Beardsley,  Aubrey,  222 
Beaumarchais,  142 
Bebb,  Rosa,  313 
Bell,  J.  J.,  326 

Bellay,  Joachim  du,  272,  273,  350 
Belloc,  Hilaire,  66,  67,  334 
Benserade,  Isaac  de,  8,  347 
Benson,  A.  C.,  256,  347 
Benson,  Margaret,  24,  269 
Bentham,  Jeremy,  219,  282 
Beranger,  Pierre  Jean  de,  222,  224,  265, 
347 


Berenger-Feraud,  Laurent-Jean-Bap- 
tiste,  96,  323 

Bergen,  Fanny  D.,  113,  114,  118,  119, 
125,  323 

Berthold,  G.,  198,  342 
Bible,  The,  84,  215,  341 
Bierce,  Ambrose,  65,  115,  244,  326 
Birds,  28,  32,  so,  60,  75,  76,  77,  89,  139, 
165,  167,  169,  170,  176,  178,  211, 
231,  244,  249,  250,  281,  322 
Bisset,  196 

Blackwood,  Algernon,  19,  103,  104,  105, 
106,  107,  126  et  seqq.,  199,  200,  327 
Bles,  Hendrick  met  de,  217 
Bolm,  Adolf,  178,  180 
Bomare,  Valmont  de:  See  Valmont  de 
Bomare 

Bonheur,  Rosa,  211 
Bonsall,  Elisabeth  F.,  226,  310,  344 
Boothby,  Guy,  19 
Borodin,  Alexander,  203,  204 
Borrow,  George,  73,  74,  235,  282,  294, 
334  _ 

Bosch,  Hieronymus,  217 

Boston,  F.  J.,  343 

Boswell,  James,  66,  280 

Boulmier,  Joseph,  267,  347 

Bowring,  E.  A.,  192,  205 

Boyle,  Virginia  Frazer,  i2o,  347 

Brahms,  204 

Breughel,  Jan,  217 

Brewster,  Edwin  Tenney,  70,  321 

Brewster,  William,  76,  322 

Brontes,  The,  28 

Brule,  Albert  de,  215 

Buchanan,  Col.  A.,  55,  317 

Budge,  E.  A.  Wallis,  323 

Buffon,  Georges  Louis  Leclerc,  3,  64, 

65.  137,  315 

Billow,  Hans  von,  202,  203 
Bulwer-Lytton,  Edward,  17,  240,  241, 
327 

Buncho,  230 
Bunner,  H.  C.,  182,  341 


359 


Index 


Burbank,  22i,  223,  309 
Burgess,  Gelett,  234,  327,  348 
Burnett,  Frances  Hodgson,  298 
Burroughs,  John,  43,  44  et  seqq.,  319 
Busoni,  Ferruccio,  193 
Butler,  Samuel,  5,  190,  207,  233,  283  et 
seqq.,  294 

Byron,  Lord,  281,  289 

Cabell,  James  Branch,  1,  77,  115,  225, 
234 

Cagliostro,  107 

Caillot,  Jules-Severin,  149,  327 
Calverley,  C.  S.,  256,  348 
Calvete,  Juan  Christoval,  195 
Calvin,  Charles  Dudley  Warner’s  cat, 
76,  299  et  seqq.,  340 
Camargo,  Marie-Anne  de,  206 
Campbell,  John  Gregorson,  icxj,  323 
Canning,  249 
Cannon,  Joe,  295 

Capital  punishment  of  animals,  160 

Carl-cats,  141 

Carlin,  181 

Carlton,  Will  M.,  348 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  281 

Carroll,  Lewis,  10,  ii,  97,  136,  268,  327 

Carryl,  Guy  Wetmore,  39,  242,  243, 

327,  348 

Castration,  7,  8,  33,  285,  347 
Catalani,  Angelica,  206 
Cat-calls,  173,  333 
Catgut,  209,  210 
Cat-fear:  See  Ailurophobia 
Cat  Harris,  205 
Catlike  man,  57 
Cat-organs,  195  et  seqq. 

Cat-shows,  292,  335,  338 
Cat-spectres,  93,  94,  126 
Cats 

affection  of,  30,  38,  241,  301 
and  death,  114  et  seqq. 
and  dreams,  122,  234 
and  earthquakes,  108 
and  fires,  109 

and  intoxicating  drinks,  5,  67 

and  marine  insurance,  168 

and  mirrors,  263 

and  the  moon,  81,  82,  85 

and  negroes,  119  et  seqq.,  156,  157 


Cats  (continued) 
and  the  sea,  122 

and  the  supernatural,  125  et  seqq. 
and  water,  5,  6,  29 
and  weather,  no  et  seqq. 
as  actors,  173  et  seqq. 
as  clairvoyants,  109 
as  clocks,  82,  109 
as  Djinns,  91,  92 
as  gods,  83,  85  et  seqq.,  269 
as  fighters,  33,  34 
as  food,  72,  139 

as  hunters,  12,  22,  31,  32,  49,  50,  53, 
54.  75.  76.  86,  155,  156,  173,  190, 
264 

as  melomaniacs,  200  et  seqq. 
as  plague  preventers,  55 
as  property,  163  et  seqq.,  323 
as  property  owners,  35,  36 
as  retrievers,  6,  7 
as  thieves,  35,  50,  158,  241 
as  witches,  68,  82,  84,  91,  95,  97  et 
seqq.,  121 
boredom  of,  40 

charities,  i68  et  seqq.,  201,  203 
cleanliness  of,  10,  n,  22,  23,  46,  47, 
III,  112,  113 
cruelty  of,  31,  32 
curiosity  of,  40,  41 
delicacy  of,  57,  58 
eccentricities  of,  4,  83 
embalming  of,  87,  88,  234 
enemies  of,  28,  60  et  seqq. 
eyes  of,  82,  98,  212,  225 
food  of,  5,  7,  67,  285,  300 
gesture  language  of,  44  et  seqq. 
in  architecture,  214,  215,  344 
in  Catholic  ritual,  89  et  seqq.,  334 
in  China,  91  et  seqq.,  229 
independence  of,  24,  25,  26,  28,  29, 
37.  39.  40,  52.  83,  159,  169.  175. 
184,  212,  243,  278,  279,  304 
in  Egypt,  6,  56,  85  et  seqq.,  131,  133, 
179,  191  et  seqq.,  229,  230,  323 
in  Greece,  89,  213,  214 
in  heraldry,  143 
in  India,  92 

in  Japan,  91,  94  et  seqq.,  230 
in  moving  pictures,  178 
in  Rome,  89,  213,  214 

360 


Index 


Cats  (continued) 
in  Russia,  157 

instinct  versus  intelligence,  43  et  seqq. 
intelligence  of,  29,  43  et  seqq.,  177, 
300,  306,  319 
jealousy  of,  36 

language  of,  44  et  seqq.,  187  et  seqq. 
laws  regarding,  159  et  seqq. 
love  of  home,  9,  37,  38,  39,  270,  271 
love  of  warmth,  12 
magnetism  of,  60,  81,  116 
maternal  instinct  of,  10,  33,  52 
medicinal  uses  of,  123  et  seqq. 
mystery  of,  83,  129,  131,  248,  265, 
276,  287 

nervousness  of,  7,  8,  14,  15,  16,  108, 
no  et  seqq.,  185,  207 
opera,  196,  206 
origin  of,  131  et  seqq. 
philosophy  of,  56,  246,  302 
photography  of,  213,  343,  345 
purring  of,  189,  199 
sense  of  smell  of,  41,  42,  54 
sex-habits  of,  3,  33,  186,  265 
signs,  145 

singing  of,  188  et  seqq. 
spitting  of,  28,  133,  188,  189,  198 
suicide  of,  5,  8 

superstitions  regarding,  111  et  seqq., 
170  et  seqq. 
talking,  96,  97 

torture  of,  68  et  seqq.,  99  et  seqq. 
usefulness  of,  53,  54,  116,  155,  156, 
173  et  seqq.,  270  et  seqq. 
variety  in,  3,  16,  17,  18,  19,  20,  21 
words  derived  from,  133  seqq. 
Cellini,  Benvenuto,  53,  216 
Cervantes,  145,  232 

Chambers,  Robert  W.,  78,  79,  234,  327 
Champfleury,  18,  23,  57,  81,  189,  195, 
212,  215,  221,  263,  289,  290,  291, 
309,  310,  340 

Champion,  Dorothy  Bevill,  312 
Chance,  Lady,  226,  310 
Chapin,  Howard  Millar,  355 
Chateaubriand,  Frangois  Rene  de,  2,  3, 
19,  289,  290 

Cherville,  G.  de,  220,  343 
Chesterfield,  Lord,  168 
Clark,  Marvin  R.,  295,  310 


Clifford’s  Inn  cats,  284 
Colbert,  Jean-Baptiste,  i8 
Cold-storage  cats,  12 
Colette,  4,  II,  12,  19,  no,  183  et  seqq., 
332,  333.  336.  341.  342 
Conway,  Moncure  Daniel,  84,  97,  124, 
13s,  141,  324 

Conway,  W.  M.,  86,  87,  88,  335 
Coolidge,  Susan,  348 
Coppee,  Frangois,  20,  255,  267,  291,  292, 
349 

Corrothers,  James  David,  20,  119,  120, 
327,  349 

Courteline,  Georges,  292 
Cowper,  William,  59,  255,  349 
Cros,  Charles,  268 
Cust,  the  Honorable  Lady,  312,  334 

Daly,  Augustin,  171 
Dante,  98 

Darwin,  Charles,  43,  76,  189,  317,  319 
Darwin,  Dr.  Erasmus,  in 
Daudet,  Alphonse,  68 
Davies,  W.  H.,  349 
Davison,  Alvin,  317 
Day,  Clarence,  Jr.,  10,  395 
Defoe,  Daniel,  222,  224 
Delacroix,  Eugene,  219 
Delarue-Mardrus,  Lucie,  268,  269,  349 
Deshoulieres,  Mile.  Antoinette  Therese, 
13.  183,  341 

Deshoulieres,  Madame,  8,  13,  247,  263, 
264,  347.  349 
Destinnova,  Emmy,  207 
Dick  Whittington,  133,  150,  151,  180 
Dickens,  Charles,  18,  19,  115,  231,  281 
Dobson,  Tom,  200,  342 
Docquois,  Georges,  68,  336 
Dodge,  Mabel,  89,  219 
Dogs,  I,  3,  12,  13,  14,  19,  22,  26,  27,  28, 
29.  30.  34.  36.  41.  42.  48.  49.  50,  52. 
56,  57,  58,  60,  82,  no,  126,  127, 
137.  140.  14s.  157.  164,  169,  177, 

178,  184  et  seqq.,  188,  207,  211, 

231.  235,  250,  251,  252,  259,  261, 

263,  266,  268,  270,  277,  278,  280, 

281,  282,  288,  294,  304,  305 

Dostoievsky,  73 
Dreiser,  Theodore,  234,  235 
Dresel,  Otto,  198 


361 


Index 


Dumas,  Alexandre,  19,  109,  288,  289, 
336 

Dupont  de  Nemours,  188 
Dupuy,  Mile.,  203,  207 
Dvorak,  Antonin,  204 
Dyer,  T.  F.  Thiselton,  114,  123,  157, 
324 

Eagles,  23,  77 
Edgeworth,  Maria,  281 
Ehrhard,  Auguste,  182 
Eliot,  George,  40,  232 
Ellis,  Havelock,  44,  214,  296 
Elssler,  Fanny,  i8o  et  seqq. 

Embalmed  cats,  87,  88,  234 
Engel,  Carl,  191 
Engle,  Marie,  207 
Epitaphs,  272  et  seqq.,  350,  357 
Etymology,  85,  132,  133 
Euwer,  Anthony  Henderson,  356 
Evans,  E.  P.,  55,  160,  319,  323,  344 
Evans,  T.  W.,  262 
Ewart,  J.  Cossar,  312 

Feathers,  Carl  Van  Vechten’s  cat,  14, 
17,  36,  4D  49,  77,  113,  175,  190, 
1 91,  202,  224,  306 

Fernald,  Chester  Bailey,  179,  328,  341 
Feuillet  de  Conches,  263 
Feydeau,  Georges,  350 
Ficke,  Arthur  Davison,  230,  308 
Fielding,  Henry,  231 
Fishing  cats,  6,  204,  227 
Fitzgerald,  David,  134,  324 
Flaubert,  Gustave,  72 
Florian,  Jean  Pierre  Clarisse,  49,  222, 
262,  263,  350 
Floris,  Franz,  217 

Fontenelle,  Bernard  le  Bovier,  98,  287 
Fragonard,  Jean  Honore,  217 
France,  Anatole,  19,  44,  77,  277,  328 
Frazer,  J.  G.,  69,  117,  118,  324 
Freeman,  Mary  E.  Wilkins:  See  Mary 
E.  Wilkins 

Freyja,  Norse  goddess,  86,  98 
Froude,  James  Anthony,  336 
Furness,  Harriet  V.,  308 
Fyt,  Jan,  217 

Gainsborough,  Thomas,  217 
Galiani,  Abbe,  189,  190 


Gardiner,  William,  194 
Garnett,  Richard,  19,  257,  350 
Gauthier,  Eva,  199,  207 
Gautier,  Theophile,  14,  16,  20,  36,  71, 
202,  207,  213,  249,  265  et  seqq.,  277, 
287,  291,  310,  336 
Gay,  Delphine,  57 
Gay,  Jean,  357 
Gay,  John,  252,  253,  350 
Gembloux,  Pierquin  de:  See  Pierquin 
de  Gembloux 

George,  W.  L.,  19,  P45,  246,  328 
German,  Edward,  342 
Ghirlandajo,  216 
Gib-cats,  141 
Gilbert,  W.  S.,  200 

Gineste,  Raoul,  7,  8,  81,  97,  139,  247, 
250,  268,  269,  270,  350 
Giordano,  Luca,  216 
Gipsy,  Booth  Tarkington’s,  26,  27,  28 
Gladstone,  William  Ewart,  282 
Goldsmith,  Alfred  F.,  308 
Goldsmith,  Oliver,  65,  248 
Gosse,  Edmund,  66,  231,  274,  289,  336 
Gourmont,  Remy  de,  33 
Gozzoli,  Benozzo,  216 
Graham,  R.  B.  Cunninghame,  328 
Grammont,  Louis  de,  30 
Grandville,  222  et  seqq.,  226,  332,  344 
Gray,  Thomas,  227,  254,  275,  282,  350 
Green,  Joseph,  192,  350 
Greene,  Frederick  Stuart,  78,  328 
Gregory  XV,  18 
Gregory,  Lady,  179 
Groot,  Professor  de,  93 
Gubernatis,  Angelo  de,  134,  324 

Halliwell,  J.  O.,  197 
Hamel,  Frank,  121,  218,  324 
Hamerton,  Philip  Gilbert,  58,  2n,  336, 
344 

Hamilton,  Allan  McLane,  182,  328 
Hammeker,  Theodore,  8 
Harrison,  Frederick,  52 
Harte,  Bret,  258,  351 
Harunobu,  230 
Harwood,  W.  S.,  88,  324 
Hauterot,  M.,  190 
Hay,  Elijah,  351 
Hay,  John,  138 


Index 


Hazlitt,  William  Carew,  136,  324 
Hearn,  Lafcadio,  7,  17,  152,  293,  324, 
328,  336 

Heine,  Heinrich,  192,  201,  204,  205,  247, 
249,  261,  262,  351,  355 
Helda,  Norse  goddess,  86 
Henry  III  of  France,  66 
Henty,  G.  A.,  6,  87,  328 
Herford,  Oliver,  59,  209,  228,  229,  247, 
260,  261,  337,  351,  353 
Herrick,  Robert,  112,  248,  249 
Hess,  Walter  Leon,  260,  352 
Hiddigeigei,  Joseph  Victor  von  Schef- 
fel’s,  9,  19,  68,  194,  261,  354 
Hill,  J.  Woodroffe,  312 
Hirsch,  Charles-Henry,  234 
Hoey,  Mrs.  Cashel,  221,  309 
Hoffmann,  E.  T.  A.,  240,  356 
Hokusai,  230 
Holland,  Sir  Henry,  280 
Holland,  Scott,  206 
Hone,  William,  89,  117,  324 
Hood,  Tom,  19,  255,  352 
Hopvrood,  Avery,  7,  109,  171,  178 
Hovrel  Dda,  i6i 
Howells,  W.  D.,  296,  297,  337 
Huddesford,  George,  20,  21,  273,  274, 
352 

Hudson,  W.  H.,  7,  14,  41,  42,  2ii,  277, 
278,  316 

Hugo,  Victor,  20,  277,  291,  302 
Huidekoper,  R.  S.,  312 
Huneker,  James,  118,  143,  200,  204,  205 
Hunt,  Leigh,  32,  113,  337 
Huysmans,  J.  K.,  236,  237,  238,  277, 
289,  291,  328 

Imitative  Music,  197  et  segq. 

Ingham,  John  H.,  167,  323 
Irving,  Henry,  171 

Jacobina,  Bulwer-Lytton’s,  240,  241 
James,  Henry,  187,  231,  232,  235,  295 
James,  Robert  Kent,  313 
Janvier,  Catherine  A.,  226,  344 
Janvier,  Meredith,  4 
Janvier,  Thomas  A.,  17,  20,  154,  155, 
156,  297,  298,  329,  344 
Jennings,  John,  313 
Jerome,  Jerome  K.,  5,  6,  337 


Jesse,  Edward,  80,  316 
Jewett,  Sarah  Orne,  298 
Johnson,  Samuel,  18,  66,  280 
Jones,  Henry  Festing,  284,  285 
Jonson,  Ben,  123 
Jordaens,  217 
Jortin,  Dr.,  275 

Kallikrates,  W.  L.  George’s,  245,  246 
Keats,  John,  256,  352 
Keller,  Gottfried,  153,  329 
Kelley,  Edgar  Stillman,  200 
Kiki-la-Doucette,  Colette  Willy’s,  4, 
no,  184  et  seqq. 

Kilkenny  cats.  The,  135,  348,  352 
Kipling,  John  Lockwood,  137,  138,  325 
Kipling,  Rudyard,  63,  243,  329,  342, 

352 

Kitao  Masanobu,  230 
Kittens,  59,  260,  261 
Kiyomitsu,  230 
Kiyonobu  I,  230 

Knatchbull-Hugessen,  E.  H.,  149,  329 

Kock,  Paul  de,  277,  292 

Koriusai,  230 

Krieger,  Adam,  198 

Krilof,  Ivan,  158,  325 

La  Fontaine,  Jean  de,  149,  222,  263, 
289,  352 

La  Jeunesse,  Ernest,  292 
Lamb,  Charles,  352 

Lambert,  Louis  Eugene,  220,  292,  309, 
343 

La  Mothe  le  Vayer,  Frangois  de,  274, 
352 

Landor,  Walter  Savage,  256,  353 
Landrin,  Alexandre,  18,  310 
Landseer,  Sir  Edwin,  2ii 
Lane,  C.  H.,  6,  40,  53,  122,  313 
Lang,  Andrew,  34,  39,  48,  64,  131,  149, 
197.  333.  337 
Lavalette,  222 
Lear,  Edward,  i8 
Lebrun,  217 

Leffingwell,  Albert,  75,  321 
Lemaitre,  Jules,  96,  267,  277,  353 
Leo  XII,  18,  19,  289 
Lesdiguieres,  Madame  de,  14,  274,  354 
Liddon,  Canon,  174,  175 


363 


Index 


Lincoln,  Abraham,  160 
Lind,  Jenny,  206,  207 
Lindsay,  Vachel,  228,  275,  353 
Lindsay,  W.  L.,  5,  10,  16,  40,  45,  46,  50, 
109,  320 

Locker,  Frederick,  353 
Lombroso,  Cesare,  247 
Loti,  Pierre,  20,  95,  183,  235,  236,  277, 

287,  329,  338 

Lowell,  Amy,  353 
Lucas,  E.  V.,  338 
Lydekker,  R.,  131,  316 
Lynd,  Robert,  338 

Machen,  Arthur,  106,  233 
Maeterlinck,  Maurice,  179,  342 
Maine,  Duchesse  du,  274,  353 
Mallarme,  Stephane,  291 
Manet,  Edouard,  221,  222,  309 
Mantegazza,  Paolo,  74,  75,  196 
Manx  cats,  117,  162,  317 
Mapleson,  J.  H.,  171,  206 
Marcello,  197 

Marcellus,  Comte  de,  2,  3,  289 

Marinoff,  Fania,  178,  179,  228,  229,  308 

Marks,  Anne,  310 

Marquis,  Don,  331 

Maspero,  Gaston  Camille  Charles,  88 

Maugham,  Somerset,  256 

Maupassant,  Guy  de,  10,  277,  338 

Mayer,  A.  G.,  43 

McAllister,  Ward,  183 

Megnin,  Paul,  291,  310 

Megnin,  Pierre,  292 

Meier,  Ernst,  106 

Menard,  353 

Mendes,  Catulle,  8,  12,  233,  292 
Merimee,  Prosper,  82,  277,  290,  291 
Metempsychosis,  55,  92,  93 
Meyerbeer,  Giacomo,  66,  204 
Mice,  12,  22,  28,  31,  32,  50,  54,  64,  84, 
86,  88,  117,  138,  139,  140,  142,  148, 
153,  157,  161,  162,  173,  176,  196, 
214,  244,  251,  264,  283 
Michel,  Gustav,  310 
Michelet,  Madame  Jules,  16,  17,  24,  31, 
38,  42,  52,  57,  82,  207,  208,  209,  310 
Middleton,  Richard,  235 
Middleton,  Thomas,  180,  i88,  342 
Mieris,  Willem  van,  217 


Miller,  Olive  Thorne,  5,  77,  313,  316, 
338 

Mills,  T.  Wesley,  49,  320 
Mind,  Gottfried,  219,  223,  343 
Mirbeau,  Octave,  75,  234,  277,  292,  329 
Mistral,  Frederic,  292 
Mitchell,  S.  Weir,  62,  333,  338 
Mivart,  St.  George,  5,  48,  305,  318 
Modje^ka,  Helena,  170 
Mohammed,  2,  84,  288 
Moncrif,  F.  A.  Paradis  de,  8,  14,  18,  55, 
98,  112,  151,  189,  190,  191,  192,  193, 
194,  212,  287,  310 
Monkhouse,  Cosmo,  353 
Montaigne,  Michel  de,  278,  279 
Moore,  Edward,  251,  252,  253 
Moore,  George,  39,  231,  234,  285,  286, 
287,  294 

Morgan,  Lady,  280 

Moses,  Joseph  Winthrop,  201,  338 

Moussorgsky,  Modest,  200 

Muller,  Eugene,  51 

Mummies,  cat,  87,  88 

Murska,  lima  de,  206 

Napoleon,  61 

Neel,  Edith  K.,  313 

Newton,  Isaac,  256 

Niecks,  Frederick,  198 

Nursery  Rhymes,  80,  146  et  seqq.,  197 

O’Donnell,  Elliott,  115,  126,  325 
Ostrowski,  Leon,  290 

Palliot,  Pierre,  85,  144 
Parke,  W.  T.,  206 
Pater,  Walter,  71 
Pauli,  Charles  Paine,  283 
Payne,  John,  282 
Peacock,  Thomas  Love,  233 
Pearson,  T.  G.,  77,  322 
Pender,  Mrs.  Frederick  W.,  346 
Pennant,  Thomas,  40,  64,  191,  316 
Peple,  Edward,  17,  330 
Percheron,  Gaston,  18,  310 
Performing  cats,  175  et  seqq.,  196 
Petrarch,  2 
Picard,  Gaston,  330 
Pickens,  Jessie,  15 
Pictet,  Adolphe,  132,  356 


364 


Index 


Pierquin  de  Gembloux,  no,  187,  188, 
189,  207,  320,  321 
Pindar,  Peter,  253,  254,  353 
Pinski,  David,  330 
Pius  IX,  18 
Planche,  J.  R.,  180 
Poe,  E.  A.,  19,  79,  222,  293,  330 
Polko,  Elise,  330 
Pollock,  Channing,  173 
PoIIodk,  Sir  Frederick,  353 
Pollock,  Walter  Herries,  345,  357 
Pope,  Alexander,  251 
Powell,  G.  H.,  54,  330 
Prior,  Matthew,  255,  353 
Prisse  d’Avennes,  168 
Protective  Mimicry,  23,  24 
Proverbs,  137  et  seqq.,  325 
Puccio,  21 6 
Pujol,  Francesc,  198 
Puss  in  Boots,  97,  149,  180,  197,  198 
Putnam,  Emily  James,  89,  213 

Ralston,  W.  R.  S.,  150,  151,  325 
Rats,  10,  12,  14,  50,  92,  117,  139,  145, 
152,  160,  168,  173,  176,  214,  251 
Read,  Louise,  290 
Reed,  Florence,  171 
Rembrandt,  218 
Rengger,  J.  R.,  54 
Renoir,  Pierre  Auguste,  218 
Renouard,  227,  345 
Repercussion,  105  et  seqq. 

Repplier,  Agnes,  19,  156,  175,  177,  199, 
216,  217,  241,  256,  264,  298,  310, 
339.  346 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  2,  18 
Richardson,  Henry  Handel,  19,  233 
Richelieu,  Cardinal,  2,  18 
Riis,  Jacob  A.,  160,  339 
Rimsky-Korsakoff,  Nicholas,  203,  204 
Rives,  Amelie,  353 
Roberts,  Charles  G.  D.,  26,  317,  331 
Robinson,  Louis,  23,  29,  77,  316 
Rolfe,  Gertrude  B.,  167,  323 
Rolleston,  Professor,  61 
Romanes,  George  J.,  31,  43,  320 
Ronner,  Henriette,  213,  220,  223,  228, 
344,  345.  349 

Ronsard,  Pierre  de,  66,  353 
Roosevelt,  Theodore,  160,  295 


Rops,  Felicien,  143 
Ross,  C.  H.,  6,  122,  311,  334 
Rossetti,  Christina,  275,  354 
Rossini,  172 
Rossiter,  Clara,  4 
Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques,  232 
Rouviere,  i8i 

Ruffin,  Alfred,  268,  270,  271,  272,  277, 
354 

Rule,  Philip  V.,  313 
Runciman,  John  F.,  19,  201,  339 
Russian  cats,  10 

Saadi,  248 
Sacchini,  203 

Saint-Beuve,  Charles  Augustin  de,  291 
Saint  Gertrude,  84 
Saint  Ives,  84,  i6i 
Saint  Martha,  84 
Salmon,  Malster,  82 
Salt,  Henry  S.,  75,  321 
Saltus,  Edgar,  167,  i68,  298,  299,  331 
Santley,  Charles,  172 
Savage,  Eliza  Mary  Ann,  5,  207,  283 
et  seqq. 

Scarlatti,  202,  203,  204,  343 
Scheffel,  Joseph  Victor  von,  9,  19,  68, 
194.  247.  261,  354 
Schoefer,  Honore,  66 
Science,  42  et  seqq.,  247 
Scollard,  Clinton,  275,  354 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  20,  61,  66,  81,  102, 
234.  280 

Seton,  Ernest  Thompson,  41,  331,  345 
Seumas,  Chief  of  Clann  Fhearghuis  of 
Stra-chur,  100,  144 

Shakespeare,  William,  60,  140,  250, 

251.  303.  325 

Shaw,  Bernard,  180 
Shelley,  Percy  B.,  256,  281,  354 
Siamese  cats,  2,  10,  331 
Siddons,  Sarah,  50 
Simpson,  Frances,  311,  314 
Sistrum,  191,  192 
Skeat,  W.  W.,  H4 
Skelton,  John,  249,  354 
Smoke,  Algernon  Blackwood’s,  127 
Snakes,  23,  24,  54,  55,  78,  117,  134, 
135.  25s 

Sologub,  Feodor,  331 


365 


Index 


Southampton,  Earl  of,  40 
Southey,  Robert,  19,  255,  282,  339,  354 
Stables,  William  Gordon,  314,  331,  340 
Stahl,  P.  J.,  332 

Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence,  298 
Steele,  Richard,  281 
Steen,  Jan,  217 

Steinlen,  226,  227,  292,  336,  341,  345 
Stevenson,  Robert  Louis,  48 
Stowe,  Harriet  Beecher,  299 
Stravinsky,  Igor,  199,  343 
Street,  G.  E.,  214 
Swan,  John,  112 
Swift,  Jonathan,  209,  222 
Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  257,  331, 
354 

Sylva,  Carmen,  201,  340 
Sylvestre,  A.,  292 
Symons,  Arthur,  289 


Taigheirm,  The,  99  et  seqq. 

Taine,  Hippolyte,  23,  267,  354,  355 
Taranto,  Archbishop  of,  280,  281 
Tarkington,  Booth,  18,  26,  27,  28,  70, 
332 

Tasso,  248 

Techow,  Herr,  176,  177 
Teichner,  Miriam,  259,  260 
Telegony,  312 
Teniers,  196 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  256,  355 
Thackeray,  W.  M.,  231 
Theatre,  13,  170  et  seqq.,  341,  342 
Theuriet,  Andre,  277,  292 
Thorndike,  Edward  L.,  46,  320 
Tieck,  Ludwig,  19,  97,  i8o,  342 
Till  Eulenspiegel,  72,  149 
Todhunter,  John,  342 
Tom  Quartz,  Mahk  Twain’s,  294,  295 
Tomson,  Arthur,  212,  226,  343,  345 
Tomson,  Graham  R. : See  Rosamund 
Marriott  Watson 

Topsell,  Edward,  30,  123,  124,  139,  317 
Toussenel,  Alphonse,  66,  340 
Tschaikovsky,  180,  198,  343 
Tuberville,  George,  251,  355 
Tulden,  van,  217 

Twain,  Mark,  18,  124,  125,  173,  293 
et  seqq.,  332,  340,  346 


Unamuno,  44 

Valmont  de  Bomare,  196,  317 
Van  Vechten,  Carl,  72,  346 
Van  Vechten,  Derrick  Teunis,  137 
Vaucaire,  Maurice,  292 
Vega,  Lope  de,  248 
Velazquez,  217 
Verlaine,  Paul,  267,  355 
Veronese,  216 

Vevey,  Artault  de,  5,  49,  321 
Viollet-le-Duc,  215 
Voltaire,  187 

Vulson  de  la  Colombiere,  86 

Wagner,  Richard,  204 
Wain,  Louis,  n6,  200,  225,  226,  326, 
329,  330,  337.  338,  345 
Wainewright,  Thomas  Griffiths,  282 
Walpole,  Horace,  282 
Walter,  Eugene,  178,  342 
Ward,  Artemus,  210 
Ward,  Mrs.  Humphrey,  232 
Warner,  Charles  Dudley,  19,  76,  299, 
et.  seqq.,  340 

Watson,  Rosamund  Marriott,  20,  66, 
255.  257,  258,  346,  355 
Watson,  William,  258,  355 
Watteau,  217 
Webster,  Noah,  65,  137 
Weckerlin,  J.  B.,  195,  203 
Weir,  Harrison,  116,  166,  175,  176, 
226,  311,  326,  331,  352,  357 
Welsh  laws  concerning  cats,  161  et 
seqq. 

Whiffle,  Peter,  233 
Whistler,  J.  McNeill,  291 
White  Cat,  The,  150,  180,  197,  198, 
327 

White,  Gilbert,  10 
Whitman,  Walt,  35,  253,  289 
Whittier,  John  Greenleaf,  275 
Wilcox,  Ella  Wheeler,  258,  259,  355 
Wilder,  Burt  G.,  318,  319 
Wilkins,  Mary  E.,  298,  317,  328 
Willy,  15,  189,  332,  333 
Willy,  Colette:  See  Colette 
Wilson,  Francis,  109,  341 
Wilson,  Mortimer,  200 
Winslow,  Helen  M.,  176,  177,  311 


366 


Wister,  S.  B.,  14,  295, 
Wolsey,  Cardinal,  161 
Wood,  Rev.  J.  G.,  4, 
125,  131,  325,  341 
Wordsworth,  William, 
Wortley,  Col.  Stuart,  5 


Index 

341  Wright,  Cornelia,  80 

Wynter,  Andrew,  4,  5,  50,  341 

31,  45,  50,  62, 

Zola,  £mile,  17,  240,  277,  333 
175,  256,  355  Zucchero,  Federigo,  216 
r Zut,  Guy  Wetmore  Carryl’s,  242,  243 


367 


TJie 


I f 


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1 


